


The Battles We Cannot Evade

by morningstar115



Series: Bernicia [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Magic Revealed, POV Multiple, Season/Series 05, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-22 16:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 109,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningstar115/pseuds/morningstar115
Summary: Morgana has returned. In Camelot, Merlin struggles to foil her plans to destroy the future of King Arthur and Albion. In Bernicia, Gwaine grapples with his mildly insane family and a power he never asked for. But as all-out war hovers on the horizon, Courage, Strength, and Magic may find reasons to join forces once again...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was fast. ;)

He liked animals better than people.

He made exceptions; he had a few of human friends. Most of them were talkative. He could play along. It wasn't as if he didn't talk to his pets. Not many people realized how much he disliked humans in general, especially in large groups. Some were tolerable. Many were either too false or too unpredictable or too…just too damn much.

He'd manage, though; for as short a time as possible. Then he could go be with his pets again. To him, they were more predictable...with just a bit of wildness to keep him on his toes. They were more than just pets, he supposed. He took them hunting, which was part of his livelihood. Often they were his only companions.

It was his pets that kept many people away, especially the ones he didn't like. Those people were also the ones who thought that he was crazy. They thought he cared for nothing but his small herd of beasts.

He actually liked many animals. His creatures were just the best ones. He'd grown up with them, watching how they survived, interacted, and communicated. He had become an expert on reading their behavior. That was an integral part of taking care of them. But, strangely enough, it also assisted him on reading people. Humans were similar, though sometimes a little more complex. 

Sometimes he didn't like what he saw. Other times, it just hurt to see it.

He looked at the residents of the village nearby and saw unchanging dullness.

He looked at the soldiers and saw grim bloodlust.

He looked at the king and saw someone who bluffed his way through life.

He looked at the king's brother and saw a man trying to forget his pain and failing.

He looked at the crown prince and saw a man trying too hard not to become his father.

He looked at his close friend and saw a man who was terrified of himself.

He looked at his close friend's sister and saw an empty shell.

He had once looked at his distant cousin and seen buried rage.

He had once looked at a young southern ruler and had seen dark fear.

He had once looked at a group of knights and seen their master's anxiety, tinged with regret.

He had once looked at a young warlock and seen a person near-crushed by secrets.

Now he looked at the world and saw imbalance everywhere. He felt the sheer  _wrongness_  of it, the sickness in everything.

He was not a seer or a sorcerer. He was just observant. Perhaps there were fancier words for it used elsewhere. He wouldn't know as he was no scholar; he'd never even learned to read or write. The only thing that set him apart was his pets. People thought he was skilled, being able to tame and control them. They never seemed to realize that listening, observing and understanding was the key to such control. And he didn't use those skills only with animals.

He listened to every piece of news, every rumor that drifted in from the north or south. He watched people's reactions. On occasion, he asked a question or two.

Thus, he painted a picture in his mind of the world he lived in, beyond the scope of the little he had seen himself. From this picture he drew his conclusions.

He looked at the future, and he saw war. He also saw hope.

Perhaps the latter was just wishful thinking in a world where danger lurked in every dark corner, evil continuously found allies, and even those with the noblest hearts had their actions twisted by hate.


	2. Chapter 1

The spring breeze danced across the moor, fluttering cloaks and sending the horses stamping and snorting. The sun shone in a clear sky and the cool air smelled clean. The hunting party, made up of about twenty or so courtiers, servants, and dog handlers, moved at a brisk pace along the grassy hillside, laughing and talking. Everyone was a bit startled when Prince Elwin threw his head back and let out an excellent imitation of a wolf's howl. It sent the already-excited hounds into a frenzy of barking as if they'd just seen an entire herd of wild animals.  _Which they will be lucky to do with this level of noise. Still, everyone's_   _enjoying themselves, and this hunting trip is about having fun, right?_ It was still only midmorning; there was plenty of time to catch something before nightfall. 

Gwaine was distracted from this line of thought when normally-serious Everard, not wishing to be outdone by his twin, let out a similar howl before challenging his brother to a race. "First one to that standing stone on the hill over there wins, Elwin!"

"You'll lose!" And with that they were off, speeding away from the rest of the hunting party, their chestnut steeds neck-to-neck.

King Harlan Barclayn of Bernicia, on his grey stallion at the center of the party, guffawed and called, "Gwaine, would you please go after them and make sure they don't end up scaring away every deer and boar for the next ten miles?"

_Translation: Go make sure Elwin doesn't do something stupid and cause them both to break their necks._ "At once, Uncle!" Gwaine replied as he urged his bay stallion to a gallop. "Let's not let them get too far ahead, eh, Burke?" 

They thundered across the narrow dell, leaping the stream at the bottom before pursuing the twins up the next hill. As they caught up to the teenagers at the standing stone, Gwaine could hear the boys arguing over who had won. Rolling his eyes, he moved past them to the top of the hill. It was higher than he had realized, and offered a splendid view of the surrounding uplands. The shadows of wispy clouds chased each other across the green-brown hillsides, while in the near distance, the city and castle of Bernicia rose above a strip of emerald forest, the weathered grey stone gleaming in the bright sunlight. Gwaine could just make out the deep green banners flying from the highest battlements.

The vast landscape was so wildly beautiful that Gwaine found himself staring like he'd never seen it before, lost in a trance. Until Elwin let out another wolf howl from below and Everard called, "We're headed back to the others! Coming, cousin?"

"Yeah, wait up!" Gwaine shook himself from his reverie and followed them.

Shortly after they returned to the hunting party, the hounds scented a deer and everything descended into the organized chaos of trying to bring it down. This involved the company scattering, trying to surround the deer, and yelling, while the dog handlers scattered, tried to get the dogs to surround the deer, and yelled. The pursuit failed; the buck got away, though it took some time to convince the dogs of that.

"It's a real pity that Aldwyn isn't with us; we could've really used his expertise with a crossbow! Don't you agree, Gwaine?" Harlan said once they had once the party had slackened their pace.

Gwaine resisted the urge to move his horse a little farther away...Harlan's regular speaking voice was nearly a shout and outside it just got louder. "Yes, we might've got it if he'd come along."

"Too worried about his wife, I suppose," one of the lords in the group commented. "Naturally."

"Ha! She's only having a baby, for heaven's sakes!" Harlan said. "For all that it's their first."

"Weren't you worried before Aldwyn was born, Father? Since he was your first child?" Elwin asked.

"Hardly." The king scoffed at the idea. "I knew Aldora was made of stronger stuff than your usual fainting daisy."

"I'm sure Aunt Aldora would love to hear that observation, Uncle," Gwaine said, trying not to laugh.

Everard caught his eye and grinned. "I suppose she could tell us just how worried you were back then…"

"Quiet, you young rascal you!" Harlan bellowed as the entire company burst into laughter. Hunting trips were one of the few times when anyone dared to laugh _at_ the king. He didn't seem to mind as much.  _Back at the castle, now…laugh_ at _the king and he'll throw a piece of furniture or two your way. Even if you're family. Well_ , especially _if you're family._

The morning continued in a similar fashion, with another deer chase occurring close to noon. This time it was successful as one of the king's advisors brought a fine buck down with a crossbow bolt. Spirits were high as they stopped by a bubbling brook for lunch. At some point, Elwin managed to coerce Everard into a wrestling match, which continued for some time, with various members of the hunting party...including the king...shouting advice to both contestants. Neither won; they just got tired.

The afternoon went even better from there, with the company bringing down two more deer and a boar. The last was a difficult catch, not least because Elwin pitched headfirst off of his horse in the middle of the chase and was nearly trampled. He miraculously escaped without so much as a scratch and was back on his feet in no time, much to the relief of everyone. "Elwin, we are not telling your mother about this!" King Harlan declared as soon as he was assured that son was all right.

Except for that one incident, everybody, including Gwaine, had a wonderful time...until he accidentally called one of the courtiers…specifically, tall, blond Lord Fairley…"Arthur".

In the silence that followed that slip...it wasn't the first in the last couple years...everyone seemed uncomfortable. Gwaine, almost sick with embarrassment, apologized to Fairley as Harlan harrumphed. "Well, what are we all slowing down for? Surely we can catch another buck before we return to the castle!" But the king's buoyant humor was gone.

As they crested another hill, Gwaine fell back and cursed under his breath.  _Idiot. What the hell were you thinking? Oh, right, you weren't._   _Stupid. Just because it's a hunting trip doesn't mean…Arthur's not here, Leon's not here…nor is Elyan, Percival, or Merlin…_ And now he was upset. He also had the urge to break something.  _Oh, damn, don't you dare think like that or you'll end up…_

"Gwaine?"

He forced his face into a composed expression as he turned to Everard, who now rode beside him. "Yeah?"

"You miss it?"

"Miss what?"

"Camelot."

"Keep your voice down, will you?"

"I'm practically whispering, Gwaine. Answer the question."

"What's to miss? An ass of a king and a bunch of silly knights in scarlet?" He felt terrible the moment the words left his mouth, but shrugged it off.

"Well…" Everard seemed to reconsider his plan of attack. "…You have to admit, the castle was nice."

"It was large." _Much larger than the royal castle of Bernicia or the other castle where my immediate family lives part of the time_. Funny, he hadn't used to think of his home as small nor the royal castle in the city as cramped until he'd returned from the south.  _Got spoiled, did you?_

Everard spoke again, "Maybe you don't miss Camelot itself. Maybe you just miss your friends there."

_Damn Everard and his perceptiveness. It's bloody annoying...mostly because he's completely right._ Gwaine didn't say this. Instead, he muttered, "I don't have friends in Camelot. Except for Merlin, and he barely belongs there himself, with his magic and all." He urged his stallion forward so he could lose himself in the rest of the hunting party, safe from Everard's prying.

Noting Lord Fairley's indignant expression, Gwaine wondered vaguely what would happen if he set the man's cloak on fire. The fact that the thought had even entered his head sent him into a near-panic.  _Damn it, quit thinking those things! It's too risky and you know it._

* * *

Dusk was rapidly approaching by the time they reached the city of Bernicia. Everard spent the last couple miles smacking Elwin on the head every time his twin looked like he was nodding off in the saddle. H _e doesn't need to take another dive to the ground today._ Also occupying many of Everard's thoughts was Gwaine.

Gwaine was something of a puzzle these days. Everard's earliest memories of his cousin were hazy and overwhelmed by memories from the years and years during which Gwaine had been completely absent from Bernicia. Most of what Everard had known about him came from the stories Aldwyn would tell, little half-remembered snippets of old pranks and hunting trips and training fights. From them, Everard had gathered, among other details, that Gwaine was a born mischief-maker rather like Elwin.

But he wasn't like that these days. For a Barclayn, he was downright respectable. 

He didn't shout or throw things at random people when he was angry. He didn't get into fights, he didn't drink...at least, not that Everard had noticed. He followed orders, spent as much time with his family and friends as possible, and always told three or four people where he was going when he decided to go somewhere alone. Everyone in the family seemed to have trouble with that last thing; Everard and Elwin had been kidnapped just over two years ago when they went on a hunting trip together and failed to notify anyone except the two guards they brought with them. They might never have been taken if they'd told their father where they were going and had been assigned an entire escort. _Then again, the kidnapping brought us to Camelot and to Gwaine..._

These days, Gwaine was serious most of the time. He lightened up while doing things such as training or hunting, but then he'd get all solemn again.

Everard rarely spoke of it to anyone, but he remembered his and Elwin's stay in Camelot. And he remembered the knights' stories, especially the ones about Gwaine. Apparently, as a knight of Camelot, he'd been anything but serious and solemn.  _Maybe coming back home changed him. Or what happened on the way._

Maybe it was Elen.

Elen was…had been…a sorceress and a warrior and devoted herself to those things; as a result, Everard had never been close to her. She didn't have a very affectionate personality, anyway. Not to mention, was much older than either of the twins. Like many, Everard _had_ always rather admired her determination and strength.

She'd come after them when they were kidnapped, before anyone else had time to react to it. She'd arrived in Camelot under the mistaken impression that Arthur Pendragon had been the instigator of their abduction. She'd run into Merlin, who had realized her plot to kill the king and had injured her in battle. She'd fled, and been captured by a vengeful warlord named Haig, once a knight of Bernicia, who had tortured her and turned her into a shell of her former self. Even after her rescue, even after it became clear that she would survive her numerous wounds, she wasn't…she wasn't exactly  _there._

Gwaine had taken it rather hard.

As for himself, Everard had barely seen her since. She now lived full-time at the small castle a few hours away that belonged to her father, Prince Goddard.

_And speaking of Uncle Goddard…_

"Brother!" boomed Harlan as the hunting party rode into the castle courtyard. The grey-haired prince was standing at the bottom of the castle steps, watching the company arrive.

"What's our uncle doing here?" said Elwin. "I thought he and Aunt Ela weren't coming for another week!"

_That's what I thought, too._ Everard watched his father dismount and stride over to embrace Goddard.

The king was evidently thinking along the same lines. "Goddard, you scoundrel, what brings you to my keep so early?" 

"Ela, as a healer, was professionally concerned for Braeden's welfare and decided that coming earlier was a better idea," Goddard replied. "I see you've been hunting, Harlan. How much warning did you give everyone before dragging them out the gates?"

"Oh, about an hour or so!" Harlan laughed, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

"Don't listen to him, Father, it was more like fifteen minutes," Gwaine called from beside his horse. That started everyone laughing again.

"Is that why Haralda didn't go with you?" Goddard said. "I saw her on the training field on the way up here."

Harlan sighed loudly. "She didn't want to come. I have no idea why.  _Women_. So difficult at times."

"A lot of women are probably thinking the same thing about you, Harlan." Lady Ela came down the steps, gold-and-grey hair hanging lose over her shoulders. 

"Ah, my lovely sister-in-law!" Harlan embraced her as well.

She tolerated it. "Any luck hunting? Oh, never mind, I can see the corpses from here. Gwaine!" 

"Yes, Mother?" Gwaine said as he hurried forward.  _He looks like he's trying to figure out what he's done wrong_ , Everard observed. Next to him, Elwin let out a stifled giggle, seemingly coming to the same conclusion.  _And they say that_ our  _parents are intimidating._

Ela lowered her voice to speak with her son, but Everard was close enough to overhear. "You should go up and see your sister. She's in the set of chambers next to our usual ones."

"You brought Elen with you?" Gwaine's voice went higher than normal, wavering between sheer surprise and alarm. Everard felt just as shocked as his cousin sounded. 

"Yes, she seemed a little more…stable than usual, so we thought…she seems to be handling it all right. She rode with me."

Gwaine didn't waste time; he practically ran up the steps and through the castle doors as soon as his mother finished speaking.

"Well, _he's_ panicked," Elwin remarked snidely. Everard slapped him. "Ow!"

"Don't be an arse if you can help it, Elwin." 

Their younger sister Hertha came hurtling down the steps as he spoke, her dirt-brown curls askew. "You're back! How many deer did you kill? Did you see a boar? Can I come next time? Oof!"

The last sound came out as she lost control of her disproportionately long limbs and crashed into her father, who caught her with a smile. "Hertha, how many times have I told you that you must be just a wee bit older before you come along on a moor hunt?" He ruffled her hair. "But you may come to the feast tonight, if you like."

"Feast? Why wasn't I informed?" Goddard said with a half-smile. 

"Because I have just decided that there will be one! Oi! You guard, there! Alert the kitchens to prepare today's game for the table! We'll feast on venison and boar tonight!"

"So you  _did_  catch a boar!" Hertha squealed.

"So we did! And I fell of my horse while doing so!" Elwin said. "But don't tell Mother." he mock-whispered.

" _Elwin_!" Harlan roared. 

Everard took advantage of the distraction and slipped off to the stables to take care of his horse. He liked to have some time to think after a long day spent with a crowd of people, and he certainly wouldn't dare to miss the feast tonight. In spite of being impromptu, it would surely be exuberant.

_Royal Bernician feasts are nothing if not exuberant._

* * *

More out of habit than anything else, Gwaine knocked on the door, though he expected no reply and received none. "Elen, it's me, your brother. I'm coming in, okay?"  _The Elen of old would have made a few sarcastic comments and probably forbidden my entrance by now._

She was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, staring vacantly into the fire and already wearing a grey nightgown with a silver-brown fur stole over it. Moving to her, Gwaine reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "Elen?"

Slowly, she turned to face him, meeting his gaze. Her face was pale, her skin nearly translucent, and her cheeks hollow. Her once-gorgeous hair fell limp. But her eyes were the worst part.

Time and time again, Gwaine had seen their empty stare, felt it like a knife to the ribs. Their brown depths, once so lively and bright, were vacant pools, devoid of all but the barest emotions. Right now, only faint recognition showed. Her nearly colorless lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but no sound came out.

"Hey." Gwaine knelt beside her and took her hand as her dim gaze slid back to the fireplace. "We went on a hunt today," he told her. "We got three deer and a boar. No doubt Harlan will want to throw a banquet over it…It was pretty fun. I wish you could've been there. But you never liked hunting, did you? You and Mother…Like just a few minutes ago, she described the deer and boar as 'the corpses'. Sorry, it sounded more amusing when she said it. Anyway, I've been keeping busy these days, and not just with hunting. Training…I've been doing a lot of training with the twins. They're really good, Everard especially. Aldwyn's been slacking since he started rushing to see Braeden every five minutes…He's so worried it's crazy, Elen. If I ever marry and have children…which is doubtful…I hope I don't behave like that."

They remained in silence for a while. Gwaine wondered what was going through his sister's head, if anything. He recalled something his mother had said about her condition when it had first become apparent:  _She is lost and we're unable to call her back._

_Lost._ The word was a sensitive one, to them. _Right up there with "traitor". And "runaway"._

"Gwaine?" He stood and turned as he mother came into the room.

She smiled at him. "The king has called for a late banquet. You might want to change your clothes."

"Yeah, I'll do that." Gwaine looked down at his sister for a moment. "Mother…how is she? Really?"

Ela bit her lip, blue eyes downcast. "As you can see…no change. She doesn't get frightened anymore, though…except when she has nightmares…so we felt that we could bring her. It's good for her; getting out of our castle."

"Yes, I suppose. So…she still has nightmares."

"Every night. But when she wakes, there is still no change." Ela sighed heavily, painfully. "It's strange, though…" 

"What's strange?"

Ela shook her head. "Oh, nothing. Just the musings of an aging mystic."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm just surprised, that's all…as I've told your father multiple times…In her fragile state, I would expect her magic to be causing…ah, difficulties."

"You mean, you'd expect her to be using it…unintentionally." Gwaine's stomach clenched.

"Goddard suggested that it's the effect of the magic-suppressing shackles that were used on her…but that's not the way they work, I know for a fact." She sighed again. "Oh, well, I suppose it's better than her having no control over it. It could be dangerous, as I don't have to tell you."

_Just say what's on your mind, for God's sake._ Gwaine swallowed, on the verge of speech. At the last second, he changed his mind.

His mother noticed. "Gwaine? Is there something the matter? Something you want to tell me?"

_Mothers are very perceptive, too._ Gwaine forced a smile and gave her a quick hug. "No, it's nothing. I'd better go get cleaned up for the feast." He left the room.

_Stupid, stupid. A hundred times over. When did you become such a secret-hoarder?_

"When you ran away from home over a decade ago," he muttered to himself as he entered his chambers. "Stop thinking about it."

A few hours later, the long day finally caught up with him and he felt so tired that he could've fallen asleep on the banquet hall table.

The feast was in full swing by that point. King Harlan was getting drunk... _As usual..._ Queen Aldora was chatting and laughing with Lady Ela... _No doubt telling embarrassing stories about all of their children when we were babies..._ Prince Goddard was trying to keep his brother from drinking too much... _Not a very successful endeavor…damn, he still looks like he's in pain…of course, he is..._ Haralda was stuffing herself... _And glaring at everyone, naturally..._ the twins were telling grand hunting tales... _Exaggerations, most likely..._ Hertha was listening raptly... _Doesn't take much to keep her entertained…and isn't she just a bit young for a feast this late? Well, Uncle Harlan can never refuse her much..._ and even Aldwyn had made an appearance, though he kept leaving... _And there he goes to check on his wife_ )...The guests at the feast…courtiers and knights, mainly…ate, drank, and made a lot of noise, while servants worked to keep cups and platters full and dogs ran about their legs, begging for scraps and barking.

As for Gwaine himself…he enjoyed the food, though he stayed away from any ale or wine that wasn't watered down. He was considering leaving and going to bed when he saw a guard come in and whisper to Goddard, who spoke to Harlan before all three left together. Gwaine frowned, wondering what it was about until, a couple minutes later, the guard reappeared and beckoned for him to leave the hall as well.

Outside in the corridor, Gwaine found his father and uncle speaking in low tones with a man in dark traveling clothes, who then left with the aforementioned guard.

Harlan, amazingly lucid for a man who had just consumed Lord alone knew how much ale, said, "Gwaine," he began with only the slightest slur evident in his voice, "in your opinion, what are the odds of Arthur Pendragon making peace with King Odin of Cornwall?"

It took at least ten seconds for Gwaine to process that.  _Earlier I was nearly exiled for accidentally calling someone by Arthur's name, and now my uncle is asking me questions about Camelot's enemies and alliances? What?_

Goddard spoke, "Gwaine, what do you think are the chances…"

"Of Arthur and Odin making peace? Yeah, I heard you the first time." Gwaine thought about it for a moment. "Slim to none. Arthur killed Odin's son in single combat years ago; Odin sent assassins to kill Arthur, resulting in Uther's death. Camelot and Cornwall are sworn enemies."

"Not anymore, apparently," Goddard said. "According to information we have just received, Odin and the Pendragon are meeting to discuss a peace treaty."

"How the hell did that happen?" Gwaine demanded. "I remember after Uther died! Arthur would curse Odin's name every so often…when he wasn't cursing magic instead…"

"What was that about magic?" Harlan asked, but Goddard pressed on,

"Our sources tell us that Odin invaded the kingdom of Nemeth, Camelot intervened, and somehow it led to a truce."

"Nemeth? Rodor's kingdom? And what of Princess Mithian?"

Harlan rolled his eyes. "King Rodor still lives, as does his daughter. We don't know anything else…except that rumor says that Morgana Pendragon was involved."

Gwaine narrowed his eyes. "And why are you suddenly asking me questions?"

"We were just curious, that's all." Goddard replied. "You should go back to the feast." 

_And now I'm being dismissed. Wonderful._

Harlan perked up at his brother's mention of the feast. "I should return as well."

"Yes, brother, but you really should control yourself with the ale. Gwaine?"

"No thanks, I'm going to bed. Goodnight," Gwaine nodded to them both and headed down the corridor as they returned to the banquet hall.  _Since when are they so interested in the problems of the southlands?  It's confusing._

But for the first time in a long time, he didn't try to distract himself from thoughts of Camelot.  _So Arthur got Odin to agree to peace? That's incredible…I wonder if Merlin was involved…he always seemed involved in everything…_

And, also for the first time in a long time, the thought of his old friend made Gwaine smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story took me a year to write the first time around and I'm pretty sure that out of all the fanfics I've written, it's my favorite. Is it still going to need tons of editing? Heck yeah. But it's fun to revisit old stories sometimes :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after the events of 5x04 ("Another's Sorrow"). For the purposes of the story, Mordred was one of the knights who went to rescue Rodor. After this, the story goes even further AU.

A once-sworn enemy of Camelot was spending an entire week in the citadel, drawing up a treaty with Arthur Pendragon. Given that, the air of tension surrounding the castle came as a surprise to no one, least of all Merlin. 

The former enemy was King Odin of Cornwall, and everyone seemed to be having a hard time believing that he was truly agreeing to a peace treaty with Camelot. The peace talks were going well so far, but Odin was an irascible man by nature, so coming to the best mutual agreement possible proved a trying task. Plus, the king of Nemeth was in Camelot for the treaty discussions...Mithian was handling affairs in their kingdom...and after the events of the previous month, relations between Rodor and Odin were still strained.

Merlin understood the tension surrounding the court. That didn't stop him from trying to lighten the mood a bit. 

_It's a real pity that Arthur doesn't always get my sense of humor._ Merlin rubbed the back of his now-aching head as he hurried through the castle to fetch the king's clean laundry.  _I thought my joke about the rough drafts of the peace treaty being good fire starter was quite funny…_ And it just had to be the morning when Gwen wasn't around to stop Arthur and Arthur had better aim than usual.  _That goblet really did hurt…Why is it that Arthur never throws anything at anyone else but me?_

He was still considering this...for what felt like the thousandth time in the last few years...when he rounded a corner and nearly collided with Sir Mordred. "Oh! Sorry!"

"It's all right, Merlin," Mordred said, and continued on his way.

Merlin usually tried to avoid speaking with Mordred. _It's not that I distrust him_ … _Okay, I_ don't _trust him_. Though there was no reason to dislike him based on his present actions, every day Merlin found himself remembering what Mordred's future actions were foretold to be. Right now, however, Merlin remembered something that he ought to say to the young knight. "Mordred!" he called, king's laundry all but forgotten.

Mordred stopped and turned, his stance rigid as the servant caught up to him. "What's the matter, Merlin?"

"Nothing, I mean…" Merlin swallowed, wishing that his mother hadn't taught him such good manners. "I just realized that I hadn't thanked you. For staying with me and Gaius when I was injured on the way to Nemeth…and helping me save Arthur." Merlin had been unhappy when he'd come to after being attacked by Morgana only to find that Mordred was the person Arthur had left behind to guard him and Gaius. But the knight had understood the danger when Merlin told him, had proved an excellent tracker, and had fought well to free the other knights from Odin's men, so Merlin had put his usual reservations about Mordred's trustworthiness aside temporarily. He felt somewhat indebted to the young man.

"It was nothing, Merlin; no more than any other knight would have done," Mordred replied, much more relaxed. "But you're welcome." He smiled before resuming his walk down the corridor.

Merlin allowed himself a  sigh of relief before heading off to find the laundry.  _That went well, I think._ It was just so bloody tense whenever he talked to Mordred. He didn't want it to be; Mordred seemed to have no current plans to do anything nefarious. He'd sworn an oath of allegiance to Arthur, after all. But the weight of the future still weighed heavily on Merlin's shoulders, and he could never completely put out of his mind the vision the druid seer had shown him on the way to Ismere. _Not to mention all the warnings I've gotten from Kilgharrah..._ _Well, Merlin, thinking about it won't get your chores done any faster._

He had retrieved the laundry and was on his way back to the king's chambers when he encountered Queen Guinevere. "Merlin! Have you seen Arthur?"

"Yeah, he was in his chambers a few minutes ago."

"I've just come from there. He must have left." Gwen sighed. "I'll try the council chambers…though I don't see why he'd be there now, Odin isn't there this early…"

"Well, if I see him first I'll tell him you were looking for him."

Gwen smiled. "Thank you, Merlin. Tell him I'll be in the council chambers myself soon."

"No problem, Your Majesty," Merlin replied as he shifted his grip on his armful of laundry and started down the hall again.

"Merlin, how many times do I have to tell you that you can still call me Gwen?"

Merlin ducked his head. "Sorry, Your…Gwen!"  _Get it right, Merlin; she's still your friend even though she's now a queen._

Sometimes, Merlin remembered with fondness the days when Gwen was just a servant, Arthur was just a prince, Morgana was a friend...and life, though hectic, seemed much simpler. Occasionally he almost wished that things were the way they had once been.  _But overall everything is much better now, with Uther gone and Arthur on the throne._ And it was. Before Morgana had occupied Ismere and stirred up trouble with Odin, and Arthur had tried summoning his father's spirit from the dead...Merlin shuddered every time he thought about that...Camelot had gone through three years of wonderful peace. Nothing more outward than a few bandit attacks occurred during that time.

Well, except for the incident with the pair of kidnapped twins named Everard and Elwin who turned out to be not only princes, but Sir Gwaine's cousins.

Thinking about the trip that had resulted from the twins' arrival in Camelot still made Merlin wince. Not the journey itself, as until near the end it had been relatively free of perilous situations. No, what pained him was the way Arthur had completely turned against one of his most trusted knights and friends in the space of a couple weeks. After discovering Gwaine's heritage as a member of the royal family of Bernicia and the son of a sorceress...not to mention the brother of another...Arthur had turned his back on a man he had once trusted with his life. He had banished him, refused to say any sort of farewell to him, and had barely mentioned his name since. Merlin thought that if Arthur had his way, everyone in Camelot who had known Gwaine would forget about his very existence.

_But didn't Gwaine do the same to Arthur?_ Down in the dungeons of a rogue warlord's castle, after giving up most of his guarded secrets, the former knight had lashed out at Arthur about magic and honor, denouncing the Pendragon and most everything he stood for. Perhaps part of his ire had stemmed from the fact that his sister was dying, but even after, he'd shown no sign of regret over his words.

Yet Gwaine  _had_ seemed regretful…sorrowful, even…when saying goodbye to Merlin. The feeling was mutual; Merlin considered him a close friend, despite everything. He'd  forgiven Gwaine for any falsehoods he'd been told before the other man came clean about his past. Nonetheless, Gwaine had returned to his homeland in the northern kingdom of Bernicia while the Knights of Camelot, Merlin, and Arthur had traveled back to their home. And as Arthur had banished Gwaine from Camelot, Gwaine's older cousin Aldwyn, as Crown Prince, had banned Arthur and his companions from Bernicia.

Hayden and his wyverns had just been the last straw.

The wyverns had startled Merlin, but he'd already heard about them from Gwaine. He could understand why Arthur freaked out initially, though. The king's past experiences with wyverns had been… _less than pleasant_ , to say in the least. So seeing a group of people standing more or less calmly in close proximity to four fully-grown wyverns had to be pretty jarring. Gwaine, for one, had seemed very comfortable around them.

There had been a few minutes there during which Merlin felt that Arthur Pendragon and Aldwyn Barclayn were liable to declare war on each other. Thankfully, the king and prince had parted with nothing more heated than a "good riddance". Maybe the grudging truce was agreed upon partly because, given the locations of Camelot and Bernicia, war would be exceedingly inconvenient for both countries. _Unless they dragged all the surrounded kingdoms into it, but Arthur would never condone that…_

Which brought Merlin back to the subject of Camelot and Cornwall's peace talks. The final signing of the treaty was tonight along with the celebratory feast.

_Will this really seal the peace between two...no, three kingdoms?_ Rodor would also sign the treaty. _Or will something prevent it from bringing the lasting peace Arthur longs for?_

Morgana might interfere. She'd been involved in the conquest of Nemeth by Odin's forces…and it had been a sore subject during the talks. Eventually, it was decided that Morgana had fed on Odin's anger over the death of his son, therefore manipulating him into invading Nemeth and thus aiding in her plans to have Arthur killed. Arthur himself seemed to believe that Odin wouldn't have allied with a witch like Morgana had the circumstances been different and had there had been less strife between Camelot and Cornwall in the first place. And Odin had not heard anything from Morgana since their plans had been foiled and he had agreed on a truce with Arthur. But all that didn't mean that Morgana wouldn't try something else to disrupt the peace talks. It did seem a little late for anything…all but the final summarizing points of the treaty were finished. The major agreements had been reached.  _But remember Bayard and the treaty with Mercia? They'd already signed it and there was nearly a war only days later…Nimueh had a lot to do with that…_

Still, Merlin would remain vigilant.  _As always._ Sometimes it felt like he was the only one who did.

"Destiny and all that rot…" Merlin muttered as he kicked open the door to the king's chambers, tripped, and went sprawling on the floor with all of the laundry.

"Really,  _Mer_ lin." The manservant looked up to find Arthur Pendragon glaring down at him. "I thought you'd grown out of your clumsiness."

Merlin refused to give into embarrassment. Standing up and retrieving the laundry, he replied, "Only when you grow out of your pratness, my lord."

He dodged a halfhearted blow from his master as he went over to the clothes cupboard.

"You do realize those are dirty now, don't you? They fell on the floor along with you."

Keeping his back turned, Merlin said, "There can't be anything  _too_  terrible on this floor; I cleaned it myself."

"Exactly my point." Arthur sighed loudly as Merlin continued to put the clothes away. "Merlin, have you seen Guinevere?"

"Actually, I did." Merlin shut the cupboard doors and went to make the bed. "She's looking for you, said you weren't in here."

"I had to find Sir Leon and discuss security for the feast…I'm not taking any chances."  _I don't blame him_. "I just got back. Did she say where she was headed?"

"Council chambers." Merlin saw a chance to get a jibe in and asked slyly, "Is something off between the two of you lately? Because I could  _swear_ …"

He didn't get any farther as Arthur punched him in the arm and said, "Merlin, shut up."

"Yes, sire."  _Some things never change._ Merlin grinned as the king gave him an unnecessarily hard slap on the shoulder and sauntered out of the room, calling over his shoulder, "Don't forget to muck out my horses before lunchtime!"

Merlin rolled his eyes.  _Oh, yeah, some things_ really _never change…_

* * *

Everyone in the banquet hall let out an audible sigh of relief when King Odin took the feather quill pen, dipped it in ink, and signed his name at the bottom of the treaty next to the signatures of Arthur Pendragon and Rodor of Nemeth.

_There's one hurdle crossed. Now, if we can just avoid any unfortunate poisonings…_ Merlin was still thinking about that lovely incident with Nimueh and the poisoned goblet.

For once, nothing of the sort occurred, and the feast proceeded as planned. A few tense minutes ensued when one of Odin's bodyguards managed to smash a plate of grapes all over Sir Elyan's best cloak, but the man seemed remorseful about it, so Elyan didn't make much of a fuss.

Meanwhile, at the royal table, conversation remained cordial. The tension between King Odin and King Rodor was obvious, but Arthur and Guinevere, seated between the visitors, did an excellent job of keeping the everyone on neutral topics. They were deep in an interesting discussion about shifting alliances in the surrounding kingdoms when Odin brought up Rheged.

"It's a bloody mess. That's what happens when the king doesn't think about trying to keep control and has so many nephews that no one knows who should get the throne next." Odin took a gulp of wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's what happened to their last king; he died a year ago and now they get a new king every month." Snorting, he continued, "If Rheged weren't so far north, I might be tempted to invade. It's easy pickings at the moment."

"Of that I have no doubt," Rodor muttered.

Odin only looked abashed for a second or two. The queen hastily changed the subject. Merlin was just refilling the goblets when Rodor mentioned his interest in establishing trade ties with the country of Deira. Odin had something to say about that, too.

"It's not a bad idea. Might even be profitable. Don't bother trying to deal with anyone further north, though. Northumbrians are notoriously unreliable and half the people living in Strathclyde and Bernicia are savage clansmen."

As he poured wine into King Rodor's goblet, Merlin saw Arthur's back straighten and his shoulders tense. "Is that so?" the Pendragon said stiffly.

Odin either didn't notice Arthur's discomfort or just didn't care. "I don't mean to imply that _all_  Northumbrians are unreliable, but ever since Lord Bromley took over the kingdom…Let's just say that since then every business venture I have heard of involving Northumbria has ended less than successfully."

Letting out a tiny sigh of relief, Merlin moved to fill Arthur's goblet. Rodor brought the conversation back to trade again as the warlock retreated to his customary spot next to a pillar to await further orders.

_Odin has no idea how uncomfortable that little mention of Bernicia made Arthur. I wonder what would've happened if he'd started talking about Bernicia instead of Northumbria…_

Later, as Merlin tidied up the royal chambers for the night, he heard Gwen and Arthur talking about it. Or, rather, he heard Gwen bringing up the subject and Arthur trying to dismiss it.

"You know, I sometimes wonder if we shouldn't try to learn more about the lands further north, Arthur. Your dream is peace with all kingdoms, but how can you strive for peace with people whom you may run across and yet know nothing about?"

"I suppose you're right…all I'm saying is that I'm glad these peace talks are over; so is Rodor, I know he's keen to return home…"

"Your father was on good terms with Northumbria and Deira, as I recall."

"You know Lord Bromley doesn't approve of me…where did I put my cloak? Merlin!"

"Never mind him, Merlin; it's hanging on that chair, Arthur. As I was saying, I think you should consider extending the hand of friendship to more kingdoms. Look how successful it has been with Odin…"

"If he and Morgana hadn't forced my hand, we'd still be unofficially at war with each other. And Camelot  _is_  at peace with more kingdoms than it was under the rule of my father!  _Merlin_!"

Merlin jumped. "Yes, Sire?"

"Are you actually doing anything over there by the cabinet, or are you just eavesdropping?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin glimpsed Gwen stifling a laugh as he said, "It's not eavesdropping if you know the person is in the room with you already!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Always  _excuses_ ,  _Mer_ lin! Anyway, you're dismissed."

"Goodnight, Your Majesties." Merlin exited the room with a quick bow. He heard the queen resume lecturing the king on diplomacy as he left.

* * *

_Betrayal._

Why had she believed that Odin would actually have the strength to complete his end of the bargain? Had it been that difficult?  _Conquer Nemeth, kill Arthur Pendragon, then lend me your army to conquer Camelot. After that, go home and enjoy your spoils of victory!_ But  _no_ , he hadn't been able to even execute the simplest of these tasks! The conquest of Nemeth had been easy, setting up the trap for Arthur had been even easier...and then it had all gone to hell.

_Yet another of my plans foiled by earthquakes and a weak man whom I thought was out for revenge. Instead, he was willing to buckle at the first mention of peace._

Yes, Morgana was furious. But she was not foolish.  _Let them have their peace talks. Let them sign their pitiful treaties. Next time…_ But it seemed like every time she gave someone her trust…however partial that trust… _Trust? Ha! There is no one you can trust, Morgana! You are alone…but you will prevail. You will take your rightful place on the throne of Camelot._

The voice that spoke the last sentence in her head sounded like Morgause's. It was oddly comforting.

_Now, if I can just find Aithusa…_ The young dragon had been behaving oddly the last couple months…ever since Ismere, in fact…and now went off by herself quite a lot. Morgana was concerned, of course, but comforted herself in the fact that most creatures...humans included...ran at the sight of even a small dragon. And it wasn't as if Morgana had felt comfortable bringing a young dragon anywhere near Odin and his men.  _She'll find me soon enough._

Meanwhile, Morgana had plans to concoct.

 


	4. Chapter 3

Walking in on King Harlan's lunch was not a good idea. Which was probably…no, _definitely_ …why the twins had made Gwaine do it.

_They should've warned me that the king asked Haralda to dine with him today. That almost always makes things twice as…'interesting'._

Outrageous behavior didn't bother Gwaine much. He was a Barclayn; it kind of went with the name. He'd often the perpetrator of such behavior in the past. But Harlan and Haralda in an argument during a meal… _That's taking 'outrageous' to a whole new level_. Particularly when they couldn't hear his knock for how loudly they were shouting at each other. 

The first thing he had to do when he walked into the room was duck a flying platter with pieces of meat still spinning off of it. _Thankfully I've had more than enough practice ducking things like this_. As he straightened, he was hit by something else: his uncle's unbelievably loud voice.  _It's even louder than his "you've offended me and my kingdom" voice..._  

" _You are going to get married!_ " 

Haralda's voice was just as bad. " _No, I'm not!_ " 

Gwaine glanced around the king's private rooms. No one else was in sight, save for a couple servants cowering behind various pieces of furniture.

_Let me guess; Aunt Aldora and Aldwyn are too busy fussing over Braeden to join these two and sort things out. Guess it'll have to be me, instead._ As another dish...this one thrown by Haralda...crashed into the wall, Gwaine yelled, " _Your Majesty_!"

The king stopped and seemed to instantly forget his argument with his eldest daughter. "Gwaine! What brings you in here?"

"There's a messenger from Axton of Strathclyde in the council chamber. Won't speak with anyone but you."

"Then why didn't you send a guard?"

_Excellent question; I really wish I had. But that hypothetical guard might not have a head anymore._ "Well, first the messenger said he needed to speak with 'a member of the royal family'. Everard, Elwin, and I were the nearest, but when we got there he changed his mind and said that he'd 'only speak to the king'." Actually, the messenger had said that he didn't "believe he should speak only to a pair of boys and the king's nephew", but the king didn't need to know that part.

Gwaine's explanation satisfied Harlan. "I shall go speak to him at once. I wonder what Axton wants this time?" The king had already been standing, but now he pushed his chair out of his way and strode towards the door. Halfway there he stopped, turned, and glared at Haralda. "We will continue this discussion later, young lady," he growled before leaving the room. 

Haralda let out a snort as she too stepped away from the table, brushing her light brown curls out of her face. "He wants me to get married." Her gravely voice shook with anger.

"So I gathered." Gwaine tried not to laugh.  _Harlan wants to marry Haralda off?_ He'd thought that his uncle had given up on that years ago, what with Haralda having a penchant for fighting men with weapons...and winning...outracing men on horseback...and laughing about it...and out-drinking everyone in the castle except the king.  _Oh, yeah, and being mistaken for a man._   _Now_ that _was one interesting Beltane…_

"What are _you_ grinning at?"

Gwaine started as she turned her ire on him. "Nothing, dear cousin. Just thinking what a lovely day it is."

She made a face and swept towards the door.The effect would have worked better if she hadn't tripped over the skirt of her maroon dress and gone sprawling.

"Haralda! Are you all right?" Gwaine asked, stepping forward even though he knew that offering a hand would likely result in that hand being taken off.

She didn't even respond...which he took as a good sign...as she pushed herself back to her feet, brushed herself off, and stormed out of the room without further tripping. Gwaine let out the breath he'd been holding for what felt like the last ten minutes.  _Huh. That went better than usual._ Before he also left, he spared a glance for the poor servants, who looked torn between cleaning up the mess and staying in their respective hiding spots. He gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Carry on."

Gwaine had just turned the nearest corner when he came across the twins whispering together next to an ugly tapestry of a boar. "All right, you two," he said, using the most severe tone he could manage, "Next time you need to deliver a message to your father, do it yourselves and don't send me in to the slaughter."

Everard looked guilty and Elwin looked offended, until they both realized that he was joking. " _Gwaine_!" Elwin said. 

Gwaine laughed and slapped the teenager on the shoulder. "No need to worry. I'm not feeling murderous. That's Haralda right now. But seriously...next time, I'm not doing it. They're  _your_ father and sister, not mine."

"What happened?" Everard asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Nearly got decapitated by a plate."

"Oh, lord, what did they start fighting over this time?" 

"Marriage." Gwaine crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, eyeing the tapestry and contemplating why anyone would want that thing indoors.

" _What?_ " the twins said together. 

"Harlan wants Haralda to get married."

"Bad idea," Elwin said. 

Gwaine shrugged. "Obviously." 

"Has he forgotten what she did last Beltane?" Everard said. 

"I don't think anyone who was there has forgotten what happened last Beltane; nor has anyone who heard about it." said Gwaine. "A woman dressing in a man's clothing…that's one thing. Making almost everyone  _believe_  that she's a man…now, that's quite another…"

" _You_ weren't fooled, as I recall." Everard muttered. 

"Well, I wasn't as drunk as everyone else was."

They were distracted from that line of discussion by Aldwyn's voice drifting down the corridor in a stream of mostly incoherent protests. "Don't…I refuse…Why can't…I said no…Listen to me!"

Lady Ela, who had a very firm grip on Aldwyn's shoulder as she guided him down the hall, snapped, "Quiet, young man. And don't even try pulling that 'Crown Prince' nonsense with me." Catching sight of Gwaine and the twins, she looked relieved. "Gwaine, Everard, deal with this." She released Aldwyn with a less-than-gentle shove in their direction.

"What about me?" Elwin protested. Ela spared him a look as she turned to head back to go the way she had come.

"What's going on, Mother?" Gwaine called after her; Aldwyn seemed a little too out of it for questioning.

"Let's just say it's a good thing that I decided to come to the city early!"

* * *

Everard leaned on a sword rack, watching Elwin and Gwaine sparring in the middle of the training field. Predictably, Gwaine was winning. He'd already beaten Everard twice today. They'd tried to get Aldwyn interested in training of some sort, but he was so distracted that after he lost three successive sword fighting matches to Gwaine and missed the target twice with a crossbow, they gave up trying to make him do anything other than mope around by the armory shed.

"Braeden be fine, Aldwyn," Gwaine had tried reassuring him.

"But…didn't you see your mother's face? She was worried!"

Everard had said, "I think she was more worried about you doing something idiotic than anything going wrong with your wife."

"Shut up, Everard. I'm not Elwin."

" _Hey_!" Elwin had protested, and Aldwyn almost laughed.

Now Aldwyn had sunk into a gloomy stupor, only answering people with monosyllables.

_If Elwin or I was behaving like that, he'd quite literally smack some sense into us. I can't manage the same with him, sadly. Oh, well, I suppose he has the right to be worried…_ Worry was realistic in this situation, Everard supposed.  _Braeden_ _will_   _be fine; how could she be anything else with Aunt Ela there? Besides, if something was going to go wrong, they would've noticed by now, right?_ He hoped so. However, he honestly didn't know anything about childbirth and didn't want to learn. But now  _he_  was starting to get worried about his pretty, charming, often-more-sensible-than-Aldwyn sister-in-law.

Out in the field, Gwaine disarmed Elwin. Unwilling to give up so easily, Elwin departed from regular combat etiquette and launched himself at his older cousin, who dropped his sword and joined in the impromptu wrestling bout.

_Typical Elwin. Never give up, even when it's reasonable to. It might save his life someday. You never know._

After a few minutes, Gwaine and Elwin finished wrestling and, both covered in grass and grinning, came over to where Everard was standing. Smiling, Everard called, "Lost again, brother?"

"It wasn't a fair match! Gwaine's far more experienced with a sword than me,  _and_ he's bigger, so wrestling's not fair either!"

Gwaine rolled his eyes and punched Elwin on the shoulder. "How else are you going to improve if you don't fight the experts, eh?" Abruptly, all trace of cheer vanished from his face and his gaze grew distant. "Besides, not every fight it fair." Then he returned his attention to Everard. "Has Aldwyn moved at all? 'Cause it sure doesn't look like he has."

Everard glanced over at his older brother, slumped against the armory shed wall with a morose expression on his face. "Not that I know of."

"Do you suppose we ought to…I don't know, try to cheer him up?" asked Elwin.

"We tried that already." Everard said.

"Well, why don't we try it again?"

"Because it won't work?"

"How can you be sure that something won't work until you've tried?"

"Now you're just quoting Great-Aunt Gytha!"

"All right, you two, that's enough," Gwaine said. "We should go check on the poor fellow, though. I think impending fatherhood is weighing on him."

Aldwyn didn't appreciate being checked on. "Of course I'm  _fine_ , you idiots. Leave me alone and go back to your target practice."

Everard frowned. "Target practice? Last I checked, it was sword combat."

Glowering, Aldwyn ground out, "I knew that! I was watching. It just came out wrong."

"Really." Gwaine didn't look convinced. "So, if you were watching, who won the last match?"

"You did."

"Are you saying that because you know it for a fact, or just because you know that I always win against these two?"

"Everard beat you once," Elwin pointed out.

"Yes,  _once_. I was caught off guard. That's beside the point. Aldwyn, if you keep on sulking around like…"

"Wait, when was that?" Aldwyn perked up for the first time in hours. "I remember you and Everard coming to a draw before while skirmishing, but not Everard beating you. I would think that I would've heard about _that_."

_Oh, so we just had to_   _talk to him about something other than his wife and child and he's fine. Great._

"It was in Camelot, Aldwyn, so that's probably why you never heard about it. And as I said, I was caught off guard," Gwaine said, words rushed. "Everard was far more skilled with a sword than I anticipated."

Everard might've thanked his cousin for the backhanded complement if it weren't for the sudden and drastic change in Aldwyn's expression at the mention of "Camelot". But the older man didn't pursue the subject. "So, you're a better swordsman than either of the twins. That's a given. You're better than me."

"You're distracted today," Gwaine said. "With good reason, I'll admit, though it's no excuse to act all _hopeless_..."

"No, I mean you're a better swordsman than me,  _all the bloody time_." Aldwyn stood up, brushing bits of grass from his trousers. "But I guess it makes sense. Your father always defeated mine when it came to sword combat."

"He did?" Surprised, Everard cast his mind back, trying to remember any mention of such a fact. No one ever seemed to speak much about Prince Goddard's former deeds as a soldier and knight.  _He's a diplomat now. I guess I assumed he always was._

"Oh, yes, they'd fight for ages, both just as determined to win, then Uncle Goddard would disarm Father and claim victory. Though occasionally, after a particularly long match, Father would throw down his sword and proclaim defeat." Aldwyn smiled reminiscently. "Sometimes, Uncle Goddard would fight three or more knights at once. He'd usually win. He claimed it was for 'training purposes', but I swear he did it for fun half the time."

"Really? Gwaine, did that actually happen?" Elwin said. 

"Yes." Gwaine replied quietly. "Often."

"And then he and Father would fight Gwaine and me, two against two. They'd always win, but we kind of expected that…Still, it was fun." Aldwyn chuckled. "And we learned a lot."

_Sounds like they did. But it looks like Gwaine wants to change the subject._

It turned out that he didn't have to, as Haralda came stalking onto the training field. "Aldwyn!" she shouted.

"What?" Aldwyn's expression morphed into terror. 

Haralda stopped in front of them, arms folded over her chest. She gave no indication of her mood until her customary glower dissolved into a grudging smile. "Congratulations, dear brother."

Aldwyn took off running up the hill towards the castle almost before she'd finished speaking. As he disappeared from sight, Haralda turned back to the others  with a shrug. "It's a girl, in case you were wondering."

* * *

Harlan raised his goblet and said grandly, "To Princess Alison Barclayn."

"To Princess Alison," the other Barclayns echoed. The king had restrained himself from declaring another surprise feast at the birth of his first grandchild, instead settling for a family-only celebration until more appropriate arrangements could be made.

After swallowing a mouthful of wine, Harlan reached over and slapped his eldest son on the shoulder. "Give it time, Aldwyn, and soon enough you'll have more than you can keep track of."

Aldwyn, seated on his father's left, grinned. "I hope not. Too many could be a problem."

Queen Aldora smiled and reached across the table to pat her son's hand. "Don't worry, Aldwyn, your father is just joking. No one is expecting you to have more children than you can handle."

"He'd probably need to talk that over Braeden, too." Elderly Gytha, out of her chambers for the first time in months, looked amused. "Most of the women in this family rightfully dislike having their opinions ignored."

"Only too true," Aldora conceded.

"When you're married to a Barclayn, keeping quiet isn't a good idea," Ela said from the other end of the table.

"I beg your pardon?" her husband said.

"Well, just think about it. Most Barclayn men seem to love the sound of their own voices to the point of never shutting up."

This sparked protest from almost every male person in the room as the older women smiled and shook their heads and Haralda and Hertha cackled delightedly.

Gwaine, however, remained quiet as the conversation turned to plans for the official banquet which would hopefully be held within the next few days. He hardly heard the others as he tried to come up with an answer to the question he'd been asking himself for days. 

"Braeden wants to be at the feast, so we have to wait until she's recovered enough to attend," Aldora said.

"And how long is  _that_  going to take?" said Haralda.

"She'll will be recovered in a couple days, maybe a week. No more," Ela said.

_Well, she would know._ Making up his mind, Gwaine pushed his chair back from the table.  As everyone looked at him curiously, he explained, "I'm a bit tired. Think I'll turn in early."

"Aw, did I tire you out earlier on the training field?" Elwin teased.

Gwaine tousled the teen's hair on the way past his seat. "More like you're brother did; he fights longer and harder than you do."

" _Hey_!"

Everyone laughed and said goodnight as Gwaine left the room. He was rather tired, but he went to his parents' rooms first. No one was there, not even a servant doing some late tidying. As a result, Gwaine had freedom to poke around and find what he was after.

His mother liked books and often kept a number of them nearby. Right now she had several stacked on the table in the middle of her chambers. Most of them were about magic. It was one of these that Gwaine was looking for. He was no scholar, so it took him a while to find a book in a language that he could read and one that didn't weigh about twenty pounds. When he did discover one of reasonable size that he could read, the pungent, musty odor of the yellowed pages almost put him off the idea anyway. He told himself that he'd smelled worse things and resolved to deal with it. 

And that's how he came to be sitting on his bed, reading a book about magic spells as the sky outside his window grew dark and the stars came out. At one point a servant came in and made a fire in the hearth. Said fire was dying down when Gwaine finally stopped perusing the book.

Laying it down next to him, he pushed himself over to sit on the edge of the bed, eyeing an unlit candle on the table nearby. "Well, here goes." Taking a deep breath and concentrating on the candle, he said firmly, " ** _Forbearnan._** "

Nothing happened. Gwaine let what little breath he'd been holding. "Alright, that didn't work." So he tried it again. And again.

It still didn't work.

_Why is it so hard to do this? It isn't as if I haven't used magic before._

Except those times… _a wooden practice shield shattering spontaneously, a goblet being flung across the room, a table collapsing_ …he hadn't intended for it to happen. There'd been a few other instances, too, mostly things falling over for no discernible reason...other than magic. Once he'd set a patch of grass on fire. He still didn't think that incident made any sense at all; it wasn't as if he'd been angry at the grass or anything. But it had happened, fortunately when no one else had been around to witness it. 

_Is this what every sorcerer feels like?_ he'd asked himself.  _Do they all have to be careful with their thoughts, or is it not so out of control for them?_ In the end, he'd come up with the theory that if he _intentionally_ used magic in spells and such, it wouldn't cause  _accidental_  havoc so often.

Testing out his theory didn't seem to be working.

Sighing, he muttered, "Might as well try it one more time. Then I'm going to bed for real." He stared at the candle and said, " ** _Forbearnan._** " A strange tingling sensation through his body accompanied the word.

The candle wick burst into flame.

Gwaine yelped and fell off the bed. Once he'd righted himself, shaking his head to clear it, he took another look at the candle.

It was burning merrily.

Gwaine slapped himself on the forehead. "Idiot. You finally set something on fire because you  _want_  to and you fall over. Just brilliant."  _Yeah, but you managed to do it, didn't you? You just used a magic spell._

He supposed that it was a start.

* * *

The wyvern with the green-tinted scales twirled in midair, playfully nipping at the smaller wyvern flying next to him. Above them, the almost-black wyvern circled sedately.

Whenever his wyverns got too restless, Hayden took as many of them as possible on a long trips, usually to the moors north of his home, but this time to the forests in the south. He was pretty sure that he'd crossed Bernicia's border at some point, but as long as he stayed away from people and kept his beasts out of trouble, he had no cause for worry.

Still, it wasn't often that he brought this many of his pets with him on a hunting trip. Besides the three males circling far above, Citrine and Peridot were flapping around the treetops while Amethyst had decided to follow Hayden on the ground. In fact, the only wyverns he hadn't brought were the two oldest, Sapphire and Ruby, and Topaz, who was still too young to manage long-distance travel.

Something tugged on his backpack and he turned to find that Amethyst had taken it in her mouth.  "What's the matter, girl, not enough attention?" He reached out and scratched the back of her neck. She dropped the pack and let out a sound rather like a cat's purr. "Well, you can't have what's in my pack, anyway. If you're hungry, go get your own food. That's the point of being out here."

She gave him a mournful look with her purple-rimmed red eyes. He laughed and began to tell her that sweet looks wouldn't work when he was interrupted by Citrine's familiar rasping shriek. "Citrine!" he shouted, looking around for her. 

He couldn't see her or Peridot, but he could hear them a short distance ahead, shrieking excitedly. Above, he saw Emerald, Diamond, and Obsidian diving in the general direction of the noises while Amethyst took to the air to join them.

Panicked, mostly by the fear he heard along with the excitement in the animals' noises, Hayden ran after them. Whistles proved ineffective to call them back, which worried him further. Dodging through the trees, he heard another sound besides the screeching of his pets. Someone… _something_ let out a bellow unlike anything he'd heard before. Then it cried out again, this time far more pitifully.

_Whatever it is, it's just realized that it's outnumbered._ Locating the animals by sound, Hayden lunged into a small grassy clearing and stopped dead.

Crouching on the ground, surrounded by circling, shrieking wyverns, was a scaly creature that despite similar size and some resemblance, was most definitely  _not_  of the same species. It had no horns, its eyes were blue, and it was grayish-white in color. It let out another despairing cry as it glimpsed Hayden. Smoke leaked from its nostrils, but its expression was far from menacing. It looked terrified.

Hayden found that couldn't move a muscle. 

_That's a dragon._


	5. Chapter 4

Gwaine had been having a nice morning so far. He had slept well and hadn't destroyed anything with magic during the night. He hadn't had to get up too early, he'd been able to eat breakfast at his leisure...but while he was getting dressed he was interrupted by a banging on his door and a loud shout.

" _Gwaine!_ "

Gwaine dove behind his dressing-screen. "What do you want, Haralda?"

" _Can I come in?_ "

"Sure."  _What the hell does she want?_

He heard the door open and shut again. "Where are you?"

"Getting dressed, so stay where you are!"

"Fine." 

After a moment, he ventured, "What do you want?"

"I'm going to marry Hayden Wyverndomitor."

Gwaine continued dressing as he tried to process this.  _Huh. I thought Haralda didn't want to get married. Wait a second…Hayden?_  He finished putting on his shirt and came out from behind the screen. "Does Hayden know that?"

"Not yet."

Having suspected as much, he ignored her glare and asked, "Why are you telling me instead of him?"

"Well, I need to get a sanction from  _somebody_ , preferably one of my family members who is male and older than I. Tradition is a pain, but…Father won't agree to it, Aldwyn's too busy fussing over Braeden and Alison, and Uncle Goddard will just laugh at me in that  _oh-so- kind_ way. So it has to be you."

_This is ridiculous. I'm only a year older than her! Actually, the idea of her getting married to Hayden in the first place is the most absurd part of this…_ "Why don't you back up a bit and explain why you want to marry Hayden in the first place?"

"Because Father wants me to get married and if I don't pick a husband soon, he'll pick one for me. Most likely one I will hate. So I chose first."

Still confused, Gwaine said, "Why Hayden?"

"I find him agreeable. And his wyverns can be interesting." 

Gwaine picked up his sword belt off of the table.  _So…she doesn't find any of the noblemen she knows tolerable?_  "Haralda, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but there's more to being married than finding your spouse agreeable."  _I'm not even going to get started on the wyverns._

"Like what? If you even think about making a filthy joke, I'll gut you."

He kept his mouth shut.

Haralda continued without much pause. "Anyway I need you to inform Hayden that I intend to marry him."

Startled, Gwaine fumbled with his sword belt and dropped it, sword and all, on the floor. He used the time gained by bending over and picking it up to do some quick thinking. "Haralda, why don't you just tell him yourself?"

"I couldn't possibly do that! It wouldn't be proper!"

"Since when do you give a damn about propriety?"  _Case in point: this entire conversation...scratch that, her entire life._

She glowered at him for a long minute before saying menacingly, "You'll tell him."

Gwaine raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll do it!"  _That is, I'll tell him that my cousin Haralda is insane._

Haralda nodded, looking both suspicious and pleased as she marched out again.

Gwaine groaned and sat down heavily on the nearest chair.  _Why can't she just fall in love with some wild clansman from the north? She'd probably fit right in._ "Maybe she'll change her mind. Or forget about it entirely." Even if the latter did come true, it wouldn't be soon enough.

_So I guess I'm going to visit Hayden. I suppose I ought to anyway._

* * *

It was around noon when Everard, back from a long ride, knocked on Gwaine's door. "Gwaine? Are you in there?" Getting no response, he tried the latch. _Unlocked._

He wasn't at all certain what possessed him to enter his cousin's chambers. Usually he respected the privacy of other people. He felt it was important for him to be a good example to his twin, who had no reverence for anyone's privacy too much of the time. Bursting into people's chambers without permission was something that Elwin did, not Everard. It was frowned upon, he had self-control, and that was enough.

But every once in a while, Everard would get the strangest impulses to do something inadvisable, something daring, something… _irresponsible_. 

_Like this._

Though there wasn't anything particularly daring about entering Gwaine's chambers just then. The older man was nowhere in sight. Everard scolded himself for intruding anyway and began to leave. Then he caught sight of the book, laying half-open on the floor at the foot of the bed. Curious, he walked over and picked it up, flipping through the dusty pages. It didn't take him long to realize that it was a book of magic spells.

_What would Gwaine want with a magic book? Now, if I'd found it in Elen's room…well, before she lost her mind…_ But Gwaine? As far as Everard knew, he'd never shown much interest in reading at all, let alone reading about _magic_.

Replacing the book where he'd found it, Everard slipped out of the room. As he walked down the hall, musing over what he'd found, he came upon Elwin and, unexpectedly, Prince Goddard. " _There_ you are!" Elwin exclaimed. "Where were you?"

"I went for a ride this morning. Hertha was supposed to tell you."  _She probably forgot._  "Hello, Uncle. "

"Hello, Everard. I trust you had an enjoyable ride?"

"Yes, I did."

"You went without  _me_?" Elwin asked, his voice slightly higher than usual.

"Are you really that dependent on me?" 

"Sometimes even twins need some time apart," Goddard commented. "What are you doing in this hallway, Everard? Aren't your chambers on the other side of the castle?"

"I was looking for Gwaine. Wondered if he'd be up to more training today."

"He left the city a few hours ago, said he was going to visit Hayden. I'm sure he won't mind training with you…both of you…when he gets back. He'll return before the end of the week because of the feast."

"Oh, good." Everard turned to his brother. "I'm getting hungry. Why don't we go down to the kitchens and get something for lunch? Elwin?"

The other boy had a slight frown on his face, but it cleared. "Yeah, sounds great."  _Something's still wrong; his tone's wrong._ " See you later, Uncle Goddard!" With typical alacrity, Elwin took off down the hallway in the general direction of the castle kitchens. Everard hurried after him.

* * *

Long ago, Gwaine had learned the hard way that it was never a good idea for a person, particularly a noble, to travel without companions or an escort of some kind. These days, and for his situation, he translated it as 'it's not a good idea for more than one noble to travel without an escort'. If he was with friends or family, he made sure they brought at least a couple guards with them. If he was traveling alone, he didn't give a damn.

This journey was only a few hours, anyway. He arrived at Hayden's ramshackle dwelling just as evening began to darken the sky. The confined wyverns greeted him with a tumult of shrieks. Swinging off his horse and leaving him a safe distance away, Gwaine approached the pens. "It's just me! I'm your friend, remember?"

Emerald, as usual, was the first to approach him. Sticking his long neck over the fence, the wyvern began sniffing Gwaine's hair. Rubbing the beast's neck, Gwaine said, "Missed me, huh? Now, where's your master?"

Just as two more of the wyverns moved closer... _Diamond and Amethyst, I think_...he heard Hayden's voice from the house. "Gwaine! I was just going to send word and ask you to visit!"

Giving Emerald one last pat, Gwaine turned to his old friend. "Is that so? Why?"

Hayden fidgeted. "I'll show you. But I suggest that you take care of your horse first. The extra shed is free as usual."

Gwaine did as instructed before joining the wyvern tamer at the front door of the cottage. As soon as he entered the narrow front room, Gwaine could smell smoke. _Not wood smoke_. Shutting the door behind them, Hayden led the way up a couple steps and through a crooked doorway. Gwaine's thoughts on the house's absurd construction were cut off the moment he saw what was curled up on the floor in the next room.

His shock was rapidly eclipsed by an avalanche of foreign thoughts that began screaming through his head when the creature's bright blue eyes met his.

_Lost…hurts…lost…afraid…sword…don't hurt me…please no…lost…scared…please don't hurt me…_

The disjointed thoughts, accompanied by a wave of painful emotions, hit hard enough to make Gwaine's head feel like it had been turned into a war drum. As a result, he barely realized that he was moving before he'd grabbed Hayden, dragged him out of the house, and half-collapsed against the front door. Gasping, he said, "Hayden... _what is a bloody dragon doing in your house_?"

"I found her in the woods while I was hunting. Well, my wyverns found her…Are you all right, Gwaine? You look ill."

Rubbing his temples with one hand, Gwaine said through gritted teeth, "You'd have one hell of a headache of it…oh, right,  _she_ …"  _How does he know that, anyway?_ "… had got inside  _your_ head for a second, Hayden. Or did she do that to you already?" He'd been bent over, but straightened as the pain ebbed.

"Get inside my head?" Hayden's grey eyes were wide and confused. "What are you talking about?"

"So you're telling me that she didn't start talking in your head when you first…encountered her?" Gwaine now knew what the answer would be and he had a bad feeling that he knew why.

"No, Gwaine, she did not say anything, out loud or otherwise. The fact that she was scared and alone...that much was easy to tell. You said that she just… _spoke_  to you in your mind? How is that possible?"

Coming from Hayden, it wasn't not a rhetorical question. So Gwaine answered, "Yes, she at least tried to…I think I could hear her because…because I have magic."

* * *

The rocky coast of Caerleon was not a place that she would wish to visit, especially given the weather at the moment. But she had a mission and would not allow a little rain or wind to deter her from it. Still, it was a relief to step inside the deep coastal cave system, which was warded against those who did not have magic. She was met by a broad shouldered man carrying a double-edged battleaxe and bearing a grim look.

Smirking, Morgana raised her hands in mockery of surrender and purred, "At ease, soldier. I only wish to speak with your leader. 'The Cunning One', you call him?"

The man narrowed his eyes, but lowered his weapon and gestured for her to follow him through the twisting depths of the torch-lit caves. As they walked along, Morgana noted the silent groups of people, many cloaked, watching from the shadowed nooks in the walls. She made no sign that she saw them. Soon they reached a cavern with a low ceiling, where a shadowy figure bent over some kind of scrying bowl set in a rough-hewn chunk of rock. Morgana's escort stepped forward and murmured something to the person, who made a dismissive gesture. The guard then left Morgana and "The Cunning One" alone.

He took his time turning around, and remained in the shadows. After a long moment, he said, "It is an honor to meet you again, my lady." The voice was low, smooth, with just a hint of arrogance beneath the surface.

_I should've known…_ She smiled as he stepped forward into the light of the torches by the door.  _When he last saw me, I was little more than a foolish girl. He tried to manipulate me then. We'll see how that works now._

"Hello...Alvarr."


	6. Chapter 5

Hayden didn't look surprised. "Well, I suspected something of the sort."

" _What_?" Gwaine said, incredulous. "You already _knew_?"

"Not in so many words, no. But you've been off lately. Whenever you come to visit, you always seem agitated, until you get distracted by something. Then, when whatever diversion has run its course, you go straight back to being jittery. At first, I assumed you were just readjusting to Bernicia. But, as time went by…I knew something had changed. Magic was only one guess."

Gwaine groaned. "Well, a lot of things have changed. But, yes, magic is the problem." He sighed and sat down on the short grass by the house.

Hayden crouched down next to him. "It's a _problem_."

" _Yes_. I can barely control it…I've been trying but so far it's been unpredictable to say in the least…and I could swear at times that it hates me."

"So now magic has a mind of its own?"

"I'm convinced of it. How else would've I gotten it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Umm…" Gwaine sighed again. "…this is going to sound insane…My sister doesn't have magic anymore. I think that…due to what happened to her two years ago…her magic…switched over, or something."

"Okay. I'll accept that explanation. For now." Hayden paused. "Wait, you didn't tell me why you showed up here in the first place."

Gwaine snorted. "Well, the presence of a dragon sort of drove it out of my mind." He'd completely forgotten his initial reason for riding out here. "Oh, yeah. My cousin Haralda wants to marry you."

Silence. "Why?"

"Apparently she finds you  _agreeable_."

"Oh."

"It's Uncle Harlan's fault, indirectly. He wants her to get married. She wants to defy him and knows that he probably won't let the subject rest. She likes you okay, plus you're a shocking choice for a princess's husband...no offense intended...and she knows it." Gwaine grinned. "I wouldn't worry about it. She'll find someone else even more outrageous and you'll be off the hook."

"Well, that's a relief." Hayden said. "Tell me; when did you realize that you had magic?"

Gwaine hesitated. "I think...I think I knew not long after I returned home, but…I've been in denial." He stiffened. "Okay, now that we've been avoiding the subject…Why is there a dragon in your house?"

"I told you already. I was on a hunting trip with my wyverns, and they found her. And 'it' is a 'she', Gwaine."

_I'll take his word for it…_ "Oh, right…So you found it and just…what? Brought it home with you?"

"More or less. She was quite docile; the wyverns were a bit difficult."

Gwaine glanced at the pens where the wyverns were milling around, growling. "Um, yeah, I can see why. Any theories on how a young dragon ended up alone in the middle of nowhere?"

"No. I don't think she can speak out loud. She seemed to understand most of what I say, however. She just can't answer." Hayden paused, considering. "She might be able to talk to  _you_ , though."

It took Gwaine a moment to understand. " _No_. I don't relish the idea of another pounding headache!"

"Gwaine, it would make sense. Dragons are creatures of magic... _intelligent_  creatures of magic. Like yourself."

Standing, Gwaine shot back, "I am _not_  a 'creature of magic'. My sister is. Was. Should be. Whatever. The point is, I shouldn't have magic in the first place, and having me try to talk with that dragon is a bad idea."

"Gwaine…" Hayden rose to his feet, shaking his head. "Do you want to know where that dragon is from or not? I don't know if you noticed, but she looks like she's been injured badly in the past. She limps…Anyway…" he smiled in a way that made Gwaine nervous, "…perhaps I should find someone else with magic to talk to the her. Maybe your mother would help…"

"Oi!" Gwaine lunged for Hayden, who dodged him. "That's not even funny!"  _She'll figure out about my magic for sure…_

"When did I suggest that it was funny?" Hayden said, backing away. "She's a powerful sorceress, healer or no." 

With the other man's pet wyverns so close, Gwaine found it prudent to stop trying to pummel him. He grumbled, "Fine, I'll try talking to the damn thing. If my head explodes, it's your fault."

Of course, his head didn't explode when he faced the dragon once more across the dusty room.  _Honestly, does Hayden ever come in here? When he's not entertaining dragons, that is…_ Gwaine forced himself to calm down and concentrate, bracing for whatever flood of thoughts came off the dragon next.

But when those icy blue eyes met his again, there was no rush of thoughts, only a whisper.  _Sorry…Did I hurt you?_

The whisper was still enough to make Gwaine's head pound, but he shrugged it off. "I'm okay," he said aloud, not trusting himself to speak to the dragon in his mind. Then, not knowing what else to say, he inquired, "Have you got a name?"

_Aithusa._

Gwaine looked over his shoulder at Hayden. "Her name's Aithusa."

Hayden nodded and asked the dragon, "What happened to you?"

Aithusa's gaze moved to the blond man before returning to Gwaine.  _I'm…lost._

Gwaine winced; with the word 'lost' came a wave of loneliness. _It feels...familiar_. "Lost? Do you have a home?"

This time he almost couldn't stop a cry at the turmoil of emotions that came with the thoughts.  _I left…I didn't want to go back to Kilgharrah…he'd be so angry with me…I left…left Morgana…twisted, twisted…left Morgana now she'll be angry too…_ Images suddenly welled up instead of words...images of trees, castles, dark prisons, and a woman dressed in black.

Gwaine had to shut his eyes and turn away, breaking off the conversation. Turning to Hayden, he said, "Morgana. She's been with Morgana Pendragon." He turned back, ignoring whatever Hayden was trying to say and demanded, "Why were you with Morgana?" He couldn't keep the anger out of his voice.

The dragon whimpered and crept backwards. She did limp, Gwaine noted, before being accosted by Aithusa's thoughts.  _She…I saved her…then we were captured…dark, cold, cramped…twisted, too twisted…_

Gwaine got sudden impressions of a Morgana laying wounded in a forest, Morgana and Aithusa chained in a sort of confined stone pit, a massive fortress, and Morgana… _laughing_. Maniacally.

Aithusa was still "speaking".  _Twisted…dark…it hurt like the chains sometimes…she scared me…I thought she'd be good, thought she cared, I did…but she scared me…twisted, dark… and then I almost killed the Dragonlord but he told me no, and then I was more scared of Morgana…he didn't like her…_

"Wait, wait! Dragonlord, you said?"

Aithusa's eyes widened.  _Yes, the Dragonlord._

The picture that appeared in Gwaine's head was very familiar indeed. "Merlin," he breathed.

_Merlin…yes, might be what he's called. You…know him? He hatched me._

To Aithusa, Gwaine said, "Yeah, we know him." To Hayden, he said, "This is the dragon Merlin hatched a few years ago. She was with Morgana…" he paused for a minute to sort through everything the dragon had metaphorically dumped on him, "She…helped Morgana when the witch was dying in the woods, then they were imprisoned in this small well-like prison by…somebody, didn't quite catch that bit…then they escaped and she…the dragon…ran into Merlin somewhere…It's like a bloody whirlpool in her head. And she keeps on going off about something…" Returning his attention to Aithusa, he asked, "What do you mean by 'twisted'? You keep saying it."

All he got in response were images of whatever carnage Morgana had wrought recently, spinning past him so fast they were a blur, and an overwhelming sense of poisonous hatred and fear.

He couldn't help himself; he cried out and staggered back, gagging.

"Should I get a bucket?" Hayden said as Gwaine leaned against the wall. Shaking his head, Gwaine turned back to the dragon and said, "No offense, Aithusa, but I can't stand anymore of this 'head talking' right now." He stumbled from the room, only vaguely hearing Hayden speaking reassurances to Aithusa as he left. He went outside and sat down on the ground near the wyvern pens, resting his head in his hands. The headache was back.

A few minutes later, Hayden joined him. "Are you okay?"

Gwaine took a deep breath and lifted his head. "I will be. I think. How's Aithusa?"

"As far as I can tell, she's alright. Being locked in a small prison would explain her…deformities. If she was growing…It's disgusting, what some people will do."

Gwaine nodded. He had felt Aithusa's claustrophobia himself, if only for a brief instant when she had showed him the stone pit.

"And what about her saying 'twisted'?"

"Something about Morgana…about death and…dark magic, maybe? Can't say I understood completely."

"Hmm."

Neither man spoke for a while. Then Hayden asked, "Why haven't you told anyone?"

Gwaine understood the question at once. "I don't know, exactly."

"Maybe because you were, as you put it, 'in denial'?"

"Probably."

Pause. "You should tell someone."

"Tell them that I suddenly have magic? After twenty-odd years of everyone taking it for granted that I don't?"

"But you do now."

"For all the good it does me."

"Can you control it? You said you were trying to."

"Yeah, 'cause I got sick of all the _accidents_." Gwaine looked around, located a small twig on the ground nearby, and picked it up. Taking a deep breath, he focused and said, " ** _Forbearnan._** "

One end of the twig burst into flame. He let it burn for a few seconds before extinguishing it in a patch of dirt.. "That's about the only spell I can manage so far."

"Well, it's one more than I will ever be able to." Hayden stood up, eyeing the darkening sky and the few glittering stars. "When's the last time you ate anything?"

"I had something around noon." 

"I see. Can you feed the wyverns while I find us something for supper?"

"Of course. And...thanks, Hayden."

* * *

Everard looked up at the windows in the chambers he shared with his twin brother and realized that it was getting late. Shutting the book in his hands, he stood and stretched.  _Huh, I haven't had dinner yet…I'd better go down to the kitchens again…_

He'd just reached the door when it opened, revealing Elwin. "Hello, brother! Have you eaten yet?"

"Where were you?"

His voice was frighteningly soft. Everard's eyes widened as he remembered. "I was going to go down to the market with you and the trainee knights this afternoon! I'm so sorry, El, I forgot."

Elwin pushed past him, yanking off his dull green cloak and letting it crumple on the floor. "It's fine." he said brusquely. "People forget."

Everard put aside thoughts of dinner and trailed after his brother, absentmindedly picking up the cloak in passing. "Elwin, you are clearly not fine. What's going on?"

His twin whipped around, startling him into stillness. "Nothing's wrong, Everard. Only, this is the second time today you've stood me up."

"What? Oh, you mean the ride I went on this morning. I didn't think you'd want to come, Elwin, that's all. And I swear that I just forgot this afternoon…It won't happen again."

Elwin snorted. "Yeah, sure." He sat down on the end of his bed and began to remove his boots.

"What is that suppose to mean? 'Yeah, sure'?" Everard followed him.

Elwin looked up, his grey gaze chilly. "You say 'it won't happen again'. That must be wrong because it keeps on happening."

"I don't understand."

"This morning was the first time you've gone off without telling me first or asking me to come along. And you 'forgot' to join me at training a couple weeks back…and a few weeks before that…and you're always reading or sneaking into the council chambers to listen to Father's advisors and telling me to run along…You get the idea."

"El…"

"Look, I don't want to hear it, okay? And yes, I've had dinner already. And you can put down my cloak now…I don't need you always picking up after me!" Elwin pulled off his boots and threw them across the room.

Everard dropped the cloak like it had stung him. As his brother stood up and strode over to their shared wardrobe, he backed slowly out of the room. He wasn't hungry anymore. All he could think of was getting out of the room and staying out. He was halfway around the castle before he realized that he now had nowhere to sleep. He didn't think he could bear being in the same room with Elwin tonight, even though their beds were on opposite sides of the room. And he didn't feel like hunting up a servant to fix another set of chambers for him.

_I'll just go use Gwaine's, since he's not here and he won't care anyway._ He couldn't think of anything else just then.

He was almost to his cousin's room when he heard voices up ahead.  _Uncle Goddard and Aunt Ela,_ he realized.  _They'll see I'm upset._ He opened the nearest door and slipped through, finding himself in  _Elen's_  chambers.

She was already in bed, but her blank brown eyes were watching him as he entered.

_It would be rude to just leave…I don't think she'll care, but I will…plus Goddard and Ela are still in the hall…_

Cautiously, Everard walked over and sat down in the chair next to Elen's bed. "Hi," he said. "I…I don't know why I'm in here. I guess I should've visited you sooner, anyway, so…" He swallowed. "My twin brother's being a pain…I guess you'd know all about that…"

He lapsed into silence, not moving even when his uncle and aunt's voices had faded. Within a few minutes, Elen's eyes fluttered shut and her breathing deepened. Everard watched her sleep, telling himself that he should leave and go to bed.

He ended up sleeping in the chair.

* * *

Gwaine woke up late, hearing voices.  _Not in my head this time._

He stumbled out of the cot he'd been sleeping in and wandered around Hayden's maze of a cottage until he found the source of the voices: Hayden and an bent, plainly dressed old woman, standing in the hallway outside the room containing the dragon.

"The wounds are old, and go deep, but I will do my best." The woman's beady grey eyes found Gwaine. "Good morning, my lord." she said with a mostly-toothless smile.

"Flyta?" Gwaine smiled at the healer he remembered as an old acquaintance of his mother's. He remembered that she lived in the village near Hayden's home. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, likewise," she chortled, adjusting her dark blue shawl around her shoulders. "The wyvern-lover here called on me early this morning, saying he had a creature wanting looked at. I didn't realize it would be a dragon, though."

Gwaine glanced at Hayden, who said, "I wanted her to see if she could do anything for Aithusa. Apparently there's not much, but it's worth a try."

"Even magic can only go so far," Flyta added, sending another piercing stare Gwaine's way.

Gwaine went out and visited the wyverns while Hayden and Flyta tended to Aithusa. A short time later, the old woman went hobbling back down the rode to the village, declining assistance from the two men. "I may be old, but I'm not  _that_  old!"

After she'd gone, Hayden found some bread and meat for Gwaine's breakfast. "Hey, isn't this the same thing I had for dinner?" Gwaine pretended to be disgusted.

Hayden chuckled. "Don't be so picky. You're lucky I'm not making you eat what I feed my wyverns."

"Oh, please no! I'll stop complaining right away!"

They sat out near the wyvern pens again while Gwaine ate, talking about whatever came to mind.

"So I suppose Aldwyn is happy about his daughter, the new princess?"

"He's absolutely delighted about it. I've never seen him so… _sentimental_."

"And Braeden?"

"I've only visited her once for a couple minutes since Alison was born; she seemed happy enough. But she's calmer than Aldwyn. Go figure."

"And what about Lady Cleva? I don't recall you talking about her lately."

Gwaine felt Hayden's gaze on him, but found that he couldn't make eye contact. "Haven't seen her in a while." 

"Funny, I thought she was a good friend of yours."

"She was. Is. It's…She's in Strathclyde. When Aunt Aldora and Haralda went there for a visit a few months back, Cleva went with them as part of the entourage. Guess she liked it there because she hasn't come back yet."

"Hmm, that was right after last Samhain when they went, correct? You told me about your aunt and cousin leaving…"

"Yeah, the entourage returned to Bernicia in the middle of an early snowstorm. Late year trips don't always work out well."

Hayden didn't let the conversation wander. "Something tells me that you and Cleva did not part on the best of terms." 

Gwaine didn't want to answer. "Fine, if you must know…Last Samhain, Cleva and I had an argument." He fell silent, unwilling to go on.

"About?"

Finally, Gwaine muttered, "I don't remember. I was drunk."

"I thought you stopped drinking."

"I did. That was the one time since I returned that I did…I don't even remember  _why_  I did it. But I…I remember Cleva yelling at me…then it's all blurry and next thing I knew I woke up with one hell of a hangover. She wouldn't speak to me after that, I guess I said some pretty spiteful things while intoxicated. Then she left and hasn't returned."

Hayden didn't pry any further. "Since you're finished eating, do you mind if I let the wyverns out? They're getting restless."

Gwaine shrugged. "Not at all. Just don't expect me to entertain that insane little one…Topaz, right? He tried to eat my hair last time I was here."


	7. Chapter 6

The question occurred to Gwaine as he was riding past Flyta's cottage early the next morning. He stopped his horse next to the healer's garden, startling the old woman from her tending of a row of young plants. "Good morning, Flyta."

"Good morning, my lord. And what can I do for you? Did something else happen to that dragon?"

"No, there's no change. Hayden and I took your advice and had her come outside for a while yesterday evening, but I think the wyverns scared her a bit." He paused. "When you were treating her, did she…did she say anything to you?"

Flyta's wrinkled face creased into a smile. "Yes, she did. She thanked me most sweetly."

"Out loud or…" He trailed off.

"She cannot speak aloud."

_Well, I_ knew _that…_ "Um…It didn't…hurt, did it?"  _You didn't feel like your head was being bashed repeatedly against a rock?_

"No." Flyta smiled again, this time more smugly. "Creatures of magic are all bound together, young man."

He looked away from her intense gaze and muttered, "I suppose you're right. Thank you for all your help with the dragon." He rode off in a hurry, leaving the old healer chuckling behind him.

_So I guess Hayden's theory was correct._ The previous evening, after another headache-inducing conversation with Aithusa...though not quite as bad as the last...Hayden had suggested that the discomfort that came with conversing with the dragon was unique to Gwaine.

_"Judging by what you told me of her time with Morgana, she can communicate with people who have magic telepathically, not just a Dragonlord. But_ you _didn't have magic until recently, so…"_

_"I'm the only one who responds like this? Figures."_

They had convinced Aithusa to lay outside in the sun for a while...even Gwaine could see that the young dragon's scales had an unhealthy grayish tint...before she grew discomfited by the wyverns and went back inside.  _It's weird that she likes hiding indoors after she was imprisoned…But what can I do about it?_

While they'd been watching her, Hayden had brought up the subject on both their minds. "She can't stay here forever. Though I don't mind…It just wouldn't be right."

"Yeah. We'll figure something out."

"We need to tell Merlin."

_Merlin. The manservant. The secret warlock. The Dragonlord._ "Yes, we do."

"Should we send a message to Camelot?"

"Messages get intercepted."

"We can't go ourselves. We could be recognized by Arthur and his knights."

"Give me some time and I'll figure it out."

Gwaine wondered if saying the he would figure it out had been a bad idea. He wasn't much of a 'plan' person, so it didn't come as much of a surprise when he hadn't come up with anything by the time he arrived back in the city.

The first family member he ran into was Everard. As he was passing the training field, he saw the boy, alone, hacking away at a practice dummy with uncharacteristic sloppiness. Weary as he felt, Gwaine decided to take a detour and make sure his cousin was fine.  

Everard seemed to notice his approach, but didn't stop hitting the dummy until Gwaine said, "You know, if you keep hitting it lazily like that, you'll sprain your wrist."

The hacking ceased, but Everard still looked preoccupied. Glancing around, Gwaine asked, "Where's Elwin?"

"Hell if I know," Everard said. "Why does everyone assume that he and I are always together? We're  _not_."

"You often are."

"Yeah, but just because we're twins doesn't mean…" Everard stopped. "It doesn't matter."

_Clearly it does to you._ "Did you two have an argument?"

"I  _said_ , it doesn't _matter_."

"It's fine if you two did fight, Everard. Me and Elen used to do it all the time."

Everard ignored him and went back to hitting the dummy, this time with more accuracy. After a minute of near-silence, Gwaine gave it up as a lost cause.

_For now._

When he returned to the field an hour or so later, intent on getting in some training himself, Everard had disappeared.  _I guess he doesn't want to talk. Alright then._ Gwaine picked up a couple spears and began to practice throwing them.

He'd been at it for a while before he realized that he was being watched. "Father! Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"You seemed rather absorbed in what you were doing." Goddard smiled at him, then walked over to a nearby weapons rack and chose a couple swords.

Gwaine dropped his spear and followed, confused when his father handed him one of the weapons. "Father, what…"

"You looked bored of training by yourself." Goddard moved into a more open area of the training field, swinging his blade to test the balance.

"But, Father…"  _You haven't handled a sword in years. You're…I don't want to say crippled, but…_

"Gwaine, I feel much better today than usual. Come on."

Gwaine still hesitated, then he saw the expression on his father's face.  _Frustrated, bored, and…pleading?_

"What the hell," he muttered under his breath, then made to land a blow with his sword. He didn't use much force, and his father blocked it easily. For the next few minutes, he proceeded with care, ready to stop immediately should his father show any sign of discomfort. However, Goddard seemed to be enjoying the whole exercise; his strikes and parries were clumsy at first, but he grew more confident, eventually taking the offensive.

_He hasn't forgotten much_. Gwaine almost laughed as he ducked another blow from his father. They continued sparring, circling around each other as the speed of their blades increased, until Goddard stumbled and let out a pained gasp.

" _Father_!"

Gwaine leapt forward to help him, but the older man straightened on his own. His voice was faint as he said, "Very…very good, Gwaine. You've certainly improved since the last time I fought you. But perhaps…I think that was enough for now."

As he took both swords and put them back on the weapons rack, Gwaine wanted desperately to apologize though he knew his father would not accept it. He was grateful for the lack of people on the training field.

"I miss it."

Gwaine turned to find his father looking at him, brown eyes appearing darker than usual. "I miss being a warrior," Goddard clarified. "I long for the feeling of a blade in my hand, the knowledge that if an enemy attacked I could defend myself, my family…But now I have to settle for being a diplomat. I used to be both. Now I don't have a choice but to be just one. It's rather…limiting." The aged prince laughed. "I've been watching you, Gwaine. And you're a warrior, it's clear. I keep telling myself that it's enough to know that my son can fight when I cannot. But it isn't. I wish it was."

Gwaine reached out and gripped his father's shoulder. They remained that way, silent, for a while.

_I'm sorry._

* * *

The feast for the newborn Princess Alison was held that evening, and per usual, the banquet hall was a positive mess as everyone there ate, drank, and made a lot of noise.

The baby in whose honor the feast was being held was not in attendance, of course, but Princess Braeden was, looking lovely as ever in sky blue with her pale blond hair braided intricately. The air of happiness around Crown Prince Aldwyn was obvious. Queen Aldora kept crying...mostly in joy, Everard supposed...King Harlan was getting drunk at record speed, and everyone else was generally having a good time.

Except for two people.

For the first time in as long as Everard could remember, he and Elwin were not sitting next to each other. In fact, Elwin was sitting on the other side of the room amongst a raucous group of trainee knights. He seemed to be laughing and chatting with enthusiasm. Everard, knowing his twin too well, discerned the falseness of the display.

As for himself, he ate and drank, but refrained from socializing. The people around him didn't try to engage him in conversation, leaving him to his thoughts.

_Siblings fight, even twins…Elwin and I have had disagreements in the past…This will blow over, I'm sure…We are different people, we both have our own interests…_ But were those interests too different? Were Elwin and Everard too dissimilar to be as close anymore? Was this just a part of growing up?  _Elen and Gwaine stopped being inseparable early on, or so I've heard…but they were so different from the start that it's not much of a surprise._ But he and Elwin…

_"Why does everyone assume that he and I are always together? We're_ not _."_

Or were they? Until recently, Everard couldn't remember ever being apart from his brother for more than a few minutes. There had been one time when they were about seven years old; Elwin had been very ill and Everard had been told to stay away. Other than that, they'd always been together.  _No wonder everyone assumes that we always stay by each other's side._

He didn't want to think about it anymore, so he cast around for something else, _anything_ , to distract him. His mind fell on the book of spells he'd found in Gwaine's room a couple days previously.

_Why is Gwaine reading a magic book? It just doesn't add up._ _Well, why not ask him outright? What do you have to lose?_

Everard stood up and went to stand by Gwaine's chair, clearing his throat to get his cousin's attention.

Gwaine pulled his attention from the story the king was telling and looked around at him. "Ah, Everard! How can I help you?"

It came out bluntly. "Why do you have a book of magic spells in your bedroom?"

Gwaine flinched. The glass in the nearest window shattered.

For a few moments, the hall was in an uproar as a cold night wind came gusting through. Some ladies screamed, some men..mostly the drunk ones...fell over, and all the dogs started howling.

"Is everyone all right? And what the bloody hell happened?" Harlan roared as he shot to his feet, wobbling a bit. 

It turned out that no one was injured, and servants were called to cover the window so the guests could finish the feast without discomfort. Braeden decided that she'd had enough excitement for one night, and departed with Aldwyn and Lady Ela. Gwaine excused himself and Everard soon did the same.

_I think I have an answer to the question of the book._

The shattering glass and cold wind hadn't startled him as much as the flash of gold in his cousin's eyes.

* * *

Gwaine went to see Elen. After what happened during the latter half of the feast, he should've been far to tense to fall asleep. He wasn't.

He woke up to find his head pillowed on the edge of his sister's bed, the rest of him in the chair next to it, and his mother hovering over his shoulder. "Gwaine? What are you still doing in here?"

He sat up, rubbing his neck. "I must've dozed off."

"Are you all right?" She rubbed his shoulder.

"I'm okay." He stood and stretched. "I'll go to my own bed now," he added, noting the still-dark sky outside the window.  _I haven't been asleep long_. Then he groaned inwardly, remembering Everard's inquiry and the immediate aftermath. "Did you find out what broke the window?" 

"No one's claimed responsibility, though it must've been magic. There are a couple members of the court who have a small magical talent…one of them probably lost control momentarily and was embarrassed. No harm was done, anyway." She moved closer to the bed and tucked the blankets that had fallen loose tighter around Elen.

Gwaine felt an painful tightening in his chest and stomach.  _Tell her. You want to, really. Just say it._

"Mother, I…um, I borrowed a book from you a few days ago. I ought to have asked…"  _Coward._

"It's fine, Gwaine; obviously I'm not reading that one because I haven't noticed any books missing. Which one did you take?" She turned to face him, seemingly curious.

Gwaine took a deep breath. "It's a…it's a book about…about…um, spells…Mother, I have magic." _Why is it so much harder to say those words to her than to Hayden?_

To his bewilderment, his mother looked  _satisfied_. "Well, it's about time you told me outright."

Stunned, he took a moment to absorb this. "You  _knew_?" he gasped, "Why didn't you say anything?  _How_ did you know?"  _How many people already know without my telling them? First Hayden, then Flyta...probably...now Mother…_

Ela smiled faintly. "Gwaine, I'm your mother. I am also a sorceress. I know the signs of a sorcerer discovering his or her powers; I went through it with Elen. As for why I didn't say anything…I was hoping that you would tell me of your own volition. As you just did." She laughed. "I didn't expect it to take this long, though. You're incredibly stubborn." When Gwaine didn't answer, she continued, "So, you took a book of spells from my room? Have you tried using any?"

"Well…I can set things on fire. I've been trying to summon objects, but so far they just fall halfway across the room. And I loose control sometimes. You probably knew that."

"Like tonight."

"Yes, like tonight." He gave her an accusing look. 

Gently, she said, "Gwaine, I was hoping it wasn't you."

"Why were you hoping that?"

"For your sake. I saw your face after the window broke, Gwaine. You were terrified."

"Yeah, I was. I've been…scared."

Gwaine didn't say anything else, but accepted a hug from his mother. As she released him, Ela said, "I think you spent too long in Camelot, Gwaine. Now, you ought to go to bed, but is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"Yes, actually. Hayden has a dragon in his house."


	8. Chapter 7

"Please say that again, Ela."

Ela leaned on the door of the horse's stall let out a sigh.  _One subject of two down and he's already stuck._ "You know exactly what I said, Goddard."

Standing next to his stallion inside the stall, Goddard shook his head. "Our son has magic. Isn't a little late for him to suddenly discover this?"

"It's hardly sudden, Goddard. I've had my suspicions for over a year. I…we, rather, he said it too…think it is connected to the fact that Elen doesn't seem to have magic anymore."

"So Gwaine suddenly…or not so suddenly…has his  _sister's_ magic?" Goddard rubbed his temples. "Why do we have more trouble with our two children than Harlan's ever had with his five?"

"And since when is magic necessarily trouble?" 

"You know that's not what I meant." He stepped closer to her. "Why didn't you tell me about your…'suspicions'?"

"I don't know, Goddard…" She couldn't repress another sigh. "Maybe because he's always been more your son than mine?"

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I only meant that you were always the one who took care of him. You know it's true; if he was in trouble or was worried about something, he went to you first. When he was growing up…I was his mother but he didn't need me all that often."

"But Elen did."

"Yes. But you don't know anything about controlling magic, do you?"

"No, I do not." However, he sounded hurt.

Tears threatened to gather in her eyes, but she held them back. "I'm so sorry, Goddard."

He stepped out of the stall and wrapped his arms around her. "It's all right. I do wish you'd told me, though."

"There's something else."

The apprehensive look on his face almost made her laugh. "It's not about our children, Goddard; it's just that Hayden Wyverndomitor has found a dragon."

"A…dragon?" With Ela's nod as conformation, Goddard inquired, "And what, pray tell, is he going to do with this dragon?"

"Do you remember Gwaine talking about Merlin?" 

"Oh, yes, the crazy sorcerer who thinks it's a good idea to serve the king of Camelot." Goddard shook his head again. "Next to him, our family members look sane."

"He's also a Dragonlord."

Pause. "At this point, I shouldn't even be surprised, should I? Let me guess; Hayden is going inform Merlin about this mystery dragon. Wait, where is he keeping it?"

"In his house." Noting Goddard's expression, she explained, "It's very young. And it's a she. Gwaine was very insistent about that…Anyway, Hayden can't tell Merlin about Aithusa…that's the dragon's name…because if he goes to Camelot he'll probably be recognized by the Pendragon or one of the knights…"

"And have his head lopped off, no questions asked. Same for Gwaine," Goddard said. "Will they send a message by courier instead?"

"In this case, sending an actual person is a better idea. Which brings me to the second thing I need to tell you."

"I thought Gwaine's magic was the first thing and the dragon was the second."

"True, in a way." Ela forced herself to speak calmly as she said, "I'm going to go to Camelot."

" _No_."

"Goddard…"

"Absolutely not. I forbid it."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Now you sound like Harlan. I'm going, Goddard, and you might as well resign yourself to the idea."

"But why? Why you? Why not someone who _didn't_ nearly get killed the last time she was in Camelot?"

"Because it's not a good idea to spread around the news of a dragon, even in Bernicia. Besides, Gwaine said that she has some connection with Morgana Pendragon…"

"The witch everyone south of Deira is in a tizzy over?"

"Yes. So secrecy in this instance would be a good idea. Just in case she comes looking for 'her' dragon."

"But the dragon does not want to be found?"

"Apparently she ran away. Aithusa, I mean."

"Ah. Therefore you must go to Camelot, of all the dangerous places to go. Ela, please do reconsider."

"I've thought about it over and over already. It's been thirty years since I was there last; no one will recognize me. I won't draw attention to myself. I'll simply find Merlin, confer with him about the dragon, and leave. I'll be in and out in a day."

"I don't care. I don't want you risking your life like that." 

"Goddard…"

"Did you tell Gwaine that you were going?"

Ela tried to keep her features in an expression of indignation, but she must have failed because Goddard chuckled. "You  _didn't_  tell him."

"He said that someone else needed to go, but I didn't say that  _I_ would do it," Ela admitted.

"Oh, lord." Then, " _Can_  I stop you, Ela?"

"Maybe if you begged me," she joked.

He remained serious. "I don't know…Ela, promise me…Any sign of trouble, you turn around and come back home."

"I promise, Goddard."

"And for heaven's sake don't go alone. Take somebody else with you. Preferably someone who can use a weapon."

Ela smiled as an idea occurred to her. "I've got just the person."

* * *

"So you want me to escort your mother to Camelot. Whose bloody foolish idea was that?" Haralda didn't even look at him while she threw an axe into the nearest target.

_This is taking a lot longer than it should_ , Gwaine thought. "Mother volunteered to go, actually. I already told you why someone needs to go in the first place."

"Yeah, yeah, because Hayden found a dragon and Arthur Pendragon's manservant is a Dragonlord." Harlada tossed another axe with practiced ease before turning to look at him. "Why me?"

"Because Mother needs a bodyguard." 

"And you'd trust me to protect her?"

_Well, I have reservations about certain parts of the arrangements, but I can't very well say that to your face without getting completely misunderstood._ "Mother said you would be a good companion on this journey. You can fight, you can hunt, and you've never been to Camelot. That's important if this is going to be a  _secret_  mission." Gwaine lowered his voice. "Besides, don't you want to get out of the city for a while? Maybe the king will forget about this whole marriage business and you won't have to marry anyone. Unless you've got your heart set on Hayden?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'd prefer him to almost anyone else. But I could live without marrying him."

"So…are you going, then?"

"Sure, I'll go. What do I tell Father, though?"

"Just do what you usually do and don't tell him anything. We're planning to tell everyone that Mother's traveling to visit a friend. Any awkward questions that pop up after you leave I and my father will deal with."

"By saying what?"

"That Mother went on a trip to an old friend in Northumbria and you decided last minute to go with her. See, it's almost the truth."

"Except that it leaves out the dragon, the secret sorcerer, and Camelot."

Gwaine was close to tearing his hair out, tragic as that would be. "Does it really matter?"

"Of course not. I'm going, like I said already." Haralda smirked. "Going exploring…lying to, ah,  _misleading_  Father…It'll be fun."

"No picking fights. Don't draw unnecessary attention to yourself unless…"

"Unless I want to be murdered or executed, I know and do not worry. Besides," Haralda grimaced, "Aunt Ela will be there. And she has magic."

"It can't save her all the time. Some enemies won't be easily daunted." _Look what happened to Elen…_

"That's not what I meant. I meant that she might use magic on  _me_  if I step out of line."

Gwaine stifled a laugh. "Good point."

He wasn't at all happy that his mother was going to Camelot; to be honest, the idea was terrifying. It was where she had grown up, yes, but it was also where her family had died and where she herself had nearly met an untimely end.  _If she hadn't escaped when she did, I wouldn't exist._ But she seemed insistent about going back and wouldn't change her mind.  _She's my mother. Who am I to convince her to do otherwise?_ It hadn't stopped him from trying. 

This lack of success on his part and on the part of his father led to them both standing in the castle courtyard in the near-dark on an extremely foggy morning, watching Ela and Haralda prepare for departure. The women were in considerably better spirits than the men were, which was considerably unreasonable since they were the ones going into danger.

_Possible danger, I mean._ Gwaine wasn't too worried about the journey itself. Yes, the world could be a dangerous place, but the road from Bernicia to Camelot bothered him far less than the realm of the Pendragons itself. He tried to reason with himself.  _Mother's thirty years older than she was…probably no one remembers her…Haralda can keep her mouth shut…I think…_

"You're sure you have enough supplies?" he heard his father saying to his mother.

"Yes, Goddard, you've only asked me eight or nine times already."

"I have to be sure. I only have one you, Ela." Over by Ela's horse, Gwaine saw his parents embracing yet again, their next words in lower tones that he could not hear.

Next to him, Haralda groaned as she checked her saddlebags. "Hopeless romantics."

"Don't use that tone of voice," he said. "Those are my parents you're talking about."

She snorted derisively, and he retaliated by punching her on the arm. It was a mistake, since she hit him back, and not gently.

Moments later, his mother called, "Are you ready to leave, Haralda?"

"Yes, Aunt." Haralda gave Gwaine a grin and mounted her horse in a single fluid motion. "Watch yourself, cousin."

"Likewise," he replied, moving past her horse to say goodbye to his mother.

After a quick hug, Ela said, "Don't worry. We'll be back soon enough. Who knows, we may even return with that friend of yours." She squeezed Gwaine's shoulder affectionately.

"As long as you two come back, we'll be happy enough," Goddard said.

Gwaine nodded in agreement as his mother mounted and turned her steed towards the castle gates. "We'll send word if we can!" she called back as she and Haralda rode out into the misty dawn.

The father and son watched them disappear, then turned to each other. "My brother will have my hide if he finds out where they're really going," Goddard grumbled.

"If… _when_ they returned safely, he'll throw some stuff around, but he'll get over it. Look what happened when I came back."

As Goddard murmured his assent, they walked together back into the castle, headed for their respective quarters. Gwaine, for one, wanted to get some more sleep before it got too late in the morning. He hadn't slept well last night.

He was startled when his father, walking ahead of him up a narrow stairwell, turned and blocked the way, bringing them both to a halt. "So…magic."

_Oh, dear. I knew Mother told him, but honestly…_ Talking about his magic with his father seemed worse than talking about it with his mother. "Well…I didn't ask for it."

"I know that, Gwaine." Goddard stared down at him.

And Gwaine suddenly knew what his father was getting at. Sighing, he glanced over at the unlit torch in the nearest wall bracket and said resignedly, " ** _Forbearnan._** " Over the last few days, with his mother's guidance, he'd begun improving his grasp on several simple spells. Still, he was most comfortable with this one. He didn't even flinch when the torch burst into flames.

His father, however, did startle. "Impressive." 

"Not really. You should see some of the things Merlin says he's done..." Gwaine focused on the torch again. " ** _Acwencan._** " It took a few seconds, but the flames spluttered out. "Still working on that one."

Shaking his head, Goddard said, "And I thought it was strange seeing Elen use magic at first."

"She used to be Mother in miniature, so it couldn't have been _that_ surprising." 

"True, but you're…you're just…you." Goddard frowned. "Don't take this the wrong way, Gwaine, but seeing your eyes go gold is…unsettling."

Gwaine shrugged. "It's unsettling to be doing magic."

"Hmm." Goddard started up the stairs again. "I'm going to check on Elen. Then I'm going back to bed…as I suppose you are?"

"Yes, I am." Gwaine spared the now-unlit torch one last glance before he followed.

* * *

_Shadows_.

Dark, thick ones that at times threatened to drown her. Lighter, thinner ones that wrapped her in soft quiet.

Her world was only shadows, surrounding her on all sides. Sometimes they frightened her. More often, they protected her.

_Safe. I'm safe here._

She did not know how to leave. And, save for the times when the darkness threatened to pull her down into a sea of pain and fear, she didn't want to.

_There is nothing but this._

Occasionally the sensation of hurt, of blind terror, would bring images to her mind, images which she tried to flee from. In those times, sounds also assailed her, rough voices, shouts, screams…mostly her own.

Other times, the images would not be unpleasant ones, but she would still retreat back into her world of shadows.

_I'll never leave._

How could she? And why? If there was anything beyond this, she did not care to know it.

But now, the faint sound of male voices came filtering through the shifting shadows. Usually, the men's voices, like the ones from her buried memories, scared her. Somehow she trusted these.

As the sounds grew oddly clearer, it occurred to her that there were two…perhaps three. Two seemed deeper, one slightly less so. One of the deep voices seemed to be arguing with the higher voice, while the third was speaking more quietly.

_To me. He's speaking to me._

His words were indistinct, yet gentle. And she felt the slightest pressure of his hand on hers.

For the first time in a long time, she wanted to hear what these voices were saying.

But the memory of past pains assailed her, and her mind slipped back into the shadows.


	9. Chapter 8

 

The morning mist drifted across the silent moors. A few frail rays of sunlight burned through the hazy sky, slowly but surely warming the chilly air. Everard wandered along the castle wall, his gaze sweeping over the quiet town below and peaceful landscape beyond. Usually, he would have found the view calming.

Instead, he felt tense, even empty. He tried to keep his thoughts on the view, on training, on _anything_ besides...But his thoughts kept circling back to his twin brother. They hadn't spoken for days now, save for a few terse words in passing.

He groaned and dragged his fingers through his hair.  _This is absurd. I should just go talk to him, demand that he start being reasonable…_ But maybe Elwin was being reasonable. Maybe it was Everard who wasn't.  _I still don't think it's my fault entirely…I almost_   _like not having my brother trailing me all the time._

Almost.

The freedom he felt now...the freedom to do what he wished without having to convince Elwin...was nice enough. But it was still not worth being at such odds with his twin.

_Maybe I should apologize…Say it's my fault, say I'll try harder to be considerate after this…_ However, it  _couldn't_ be all his fault.  _Perhaps I should have been more considerate of his feelings…but he hasn't exactly acted maturely either…_ So they were both at fault.  _How do we go about fixing that, then?_

It hurt that in such a short time, his relationship with his brother had fallen apart. At the same time, he thought that it ought to…well, hurt _more_.

Everard reached the end of the stretch of wall and glanced up. A narrow wooden ladder leaned against the weathered stones of the fortified corner tower, wedged where the tower's side and the inside parapet of the wall met. There was an indoor way up the tower that involved narrow twisting stairs and a trapdoor, but after a moment's consideration, he started up the ladder. He was most of the way up before he heard the voice.

"Fine, so that wasn't the right one…Right,  ** _ne cluli_** …That's not right either. Damn pronunciation…All right.  ** _Ne onluce!_** "

Frozen on the higher rungs of the ladder Everard heard what sounded like a wooden door slamming shut.

The muttering resumed, this time with a triumphant undertone. "Ha! Simple. Let's try that again…"

As he heard the door being pulled open once more, Everard resumed his climb up the ladder.  _I think I know who's up there._ And he really wanted to see what he suspected was going on.

"Now… ** _Ne onlu_** …Oh, hello, Everard." Gwaine glanced up as Everard popped his head over the tower parapet. The older man was crouched on the stones of the tower floor, the book of spells in one hand. In the center of the floor, the trapdoor lay open. "Can I help you with something?" 

Climbing over the parapet, Everard took up a position leaning against the wall. "No, I'm fine. Carry on."

Gwaine stared at him, shrugged, and turned back to the trapdoor. " ** _Ne onluce_**." His eyes glowed gold. "'Close'." he added, for Everard's benefit, as the cracked slab of wood swung shut once more. "Useful, huh?" Gwaine glanced at his book again. "In theory, I should be able to close almost any other door with the same spell."

"I see." Everard frowned as Gwaine returned to perusing the book. "You're not surprised?"

"At what? The fact that I can shut a door?"

"That I know about…you know."

"I figured you know already. After my little stunt at the feast…caused by my alarm at the realization that you found the spell book." Standing and stretching, he continued, "Before you ask, my mother knows. And Hayden Wyverndomitor. And probably a half a dozen other people."

"What makes you say that?"

"Neither mother nor Hayden were surprised when I told them."

"And how long have you…" Everard paused.

"How long have I had magic? A couple years." Gwaine grinned sheepishly. "And I'm only now trying to learn spells? Yeah, I know. I'm an idiot. I learned that a long time ago. Point is, I'm trying to learn now."

"I'd say you're succeeding."

"Yes, with simple things. Didn't have a choice." He bent over, picked up a stray pebble, and began tossing it up into the air and catching it.

"When you say that you 'didn't have choice', what do you mean, exactly?"

Gwaine met his gaze. "What happened at the feast the other night? It wasn't the first time I'd done something like that. It was…getting out of control, so to speak." He caught the pebble he'd been tossing, eyed it for a moment, then said, " ** _Fleoge_**."

The stone flew out of his hand, losing momentum as it passed the parapet and dropping out of sight. Gwaine  sighed. "I'm working on that. And on summoning objects. It's a lot harder than setting things on fire. Or shutting doors." He glanced down at the trapdoor. " ** _Aetynan_**." Nothing happened.

"Whatever," Gwaine grumbled and reached down to pull the door open manually. "Up for some training, cousin?"

"As long as it doesn't involve magic spells. I don't think I'd be any good at the sort of thing."

Gwaine laughed.

* * *

Besides the background concern for his mother and Haralda, Gwaine had had a good day.

He'd spent the early morning practicing spells atop one of the castle towers, until Everard had shown up. Together, they had gone down to the training field and had spent a few hours there, practicing with swords, spears, and even crossbows. Everard seemed cheerful afterward, which pleased Gwaine; the teenager had been in a foul mood for days over his falling out with Elwin.

_I guess he has reason to be_.  _At least I helped him cheer up for a bit._

After lunch, Gwaine had taken a ride with Aldwyn, something which they didn't do very often since as crown prince Aldwyn had many duties...not to mention he had now taken on the role of doting father, which took up even more of his time. During their ride, the most serious topic they discussed was the twins' current behavior.

"I've never seen them so angry at each other…" Aldwyn said. "It's almost painful to watch them exist in the same room. Braeden and I were talking about it last night…If she hadn't persuaded me otherwise, I would've already locked them in a dungeon cell together to work it out."

"And banged their heads together to enforce the idea, no doubt." 

"Well, that too. I suppose they'll work it out in the end. They are brothers, after all. Race you to the next hilltop!"

Upon returning home, Gwaine had come across his father in a preoccupied mood.  _Probably worried about Mother._ Gwaine had decided to give him some space and had gone to track down Elwin instead. He'd found the young prince in the tavern with some of the other trainee knights. At first tempted to drag him out, Gwaine had reminded himself that at Elwin's age he had been in his own share of taverns and left without even speaking to the boy.

He ended up visiting his great-aunt for a while. Gytha, always happy to have an audience, had told him several tales in full before she'd fallen asleep to the sound of her own voice. By that time it had been getting late, and after a quick evening meal, he'd gone to his own chambers to continue reading the book of spells. Most were still far beyond him.

Eventually, he dozed off as he lay on his bed, the book slipping from his hands onto the floor. 

* * *

_Shadows closed in on all sides, covering the world in soft dimness. Misty shadows, white and gray, swirled around him, entangling him in long soft tendrils. It was so quiet in the shadowy land, only the faintest whispers far in the distance disturbing the silence._ _He felt calm in the peaceful place, as he wandered in and out of the shadows._

_Said_ _calm was shattered when he felt a hand on his shoulder._ _He spun around to find himself staring into a pair of brown eyes he knew very well, only at the moment they were far clearer and more awake than he'd seen them in years._

_"Gwaine?" his sister whispered, taking a wary step back._

_"Elen…" He reached for her, but a dark cluster of shadows suddenly appeared, surrounding and trapping her in their sinister grasp. She screamed._

"Elen!" Gwaine bolted upright, wide awake. But the screams from his dream were audible. 

Seconds later, he was in the hallway, rushing for his sister's room. Kicking the door open, he lunged inside, his gaze sweeping the room. The only outward thing in sight was his sister's thrashing form on the bed.He barely reached her in time to prevent her from rolling off onto the floor. Hastily untangling her from the blankets, he pulled her upright, shouting to be heard through her screams. "Elen, calm down!  _Elen_!"

Her shrieks stopped abruptly as she gripped his forearms, her fingernails digging into his skin. He found himself staring into her face, shining with sweat and framed by tangled strands of blonde hair.

"Is she all right?" he heard his father ask. Gwaine was too distracted to answer immediately...distracted by the split second of clarity, of realization that he glimpsed in his sister's eyes.

Then it was gone, the vacant look was back, and she slumped forward onto his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her,  looking over to where their father stood near the door with a couple servants watching from behind him. "She's okay, I think. Just a nightmare."

_But she was_ here _for a moment. For one moment, it was my sister looking at me instead of an empty shell._

* * *

"I keep telling you, Sarrum of Amata is a powerful man, with a strong army and many spies, though none so skilled as my own. He hates the Pendragons; he would be a real asset."

"And I keep telling  _you_ , I would not ally with Sarrum if he was the last king on the earth." Morgana glowered at her "ally" Alvarr, and began to pace around the circular torch-lit cave, wondering if they would ever reach an agreement. Yes, he could no longer convince her to follow him blindly, but he was still a very stubborn man. "I have already informed you of what he did to me…and to Aithusa."  _Who is still missing._ Morgana pushed the thought away. She didn't have time for that right now. Since the humiliating failure of her alliance with Odin, her desire to reclaim her throne was stronger than ever. "Besides, he does not approve of magic."

"True…but his lust for power may very well overturn his moral scruples," Alvarr pointed out. "And there are rumors that Arthur has extended the hand of friendship to him as well. I doubt a man like Sarrum would go into a peace treaty with a kingdom such as Camelot without… _ulterior_  motives in mind."

Morgana stopped in her pacing and turned to her fellow sorcerer, considering. "Perhaps you are right."  _If we can somehow trick him as he tries to trick Arthur, which he will no doubt try to do…_ "He will not have to know that I am your ally," she said. 

"No, he does not, my lady." Alvarr smiled. "And, who knows? Perhaps as we complete our coup of Camelot, the land of Amata may also…fall into our hands."

Morgana felt her own smile grow. "Well then," she said, "we had better start planning right away."


	10. Chapter 9

Gwaine had already felt some trepidation at being summoned to the council chambers, and the sound of furniture being kicked over did nothing to reassure him as he approached the doors.  _Only one person dares throw a fit in there, and that's the king._

Nonetheless, he waved away the guard, hauled the doors open, and walked in, halting to avoid being hit by a chair that went skittering across the floor. "Your Majesty?" The doors slammed forebodingly shut behind him.

The king's advisors all looked relieved at his entrance.  _They probably think I'll be his next target_. None of them were sitting down...most of their seats having been overturned...and most were standing against the walls, avoiding the king who was pacing to and fro over the cracked stone floor. The only person in the entire room who didn't look nervous was Goddard, still seated in his customary chair behind the king's throne, with an expression that spelled, "I have a terrible headache and I can't do anything about it". 

Harlan cast Gwaine an annoyed glance and snarled, "What do you want?" His crown was crooked on his head and his grey hair stuck out in all directions underneath it.

"You summoned me here, Your Majesty," Gwaine replied, erring on the side of caution by using his uncle's title. 

Harlan stopped pacing. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yes. May I hear why?"

Harlan glared at him. "Amata," he spat.

"Excuse me?"

"What do you know of it?"

"It's a kingdom ruled by a man called Sarrum. It's south of here, between Anglia, Escetir, and Mercia."

"And near Camelot," someone put in snidely.

_Damn that Lord Fairley. He still resents the fact that I called him Arthur by accident._ Ignoring the young noble, Gwaine said, "Why do you ask?"

"Have you ever been there?" It was Goddard who asked the question from his shadowy seat. The windows in the council chambers were little more than wide slits in the stone walls and didn't let in much light.

His gaze switching from the king to his father and back again, Gwaine took a moment to say, "Well…yes. A few times."  _Many years ago, thankfully._

" _And_?" Harlan snapped, impatient. 

"The taverns smell like pigsties. The king is a tyrant. A lot of slave traders live there." Gwaine shrugged. "And it's always foggy."

Several of the council members began murmuring amongst themselves. Harlan rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, Gwaine, is that all you can say about it?"

"What do you want me to say?"  _Now I'm annoyed, too._   _I'd much rather be practicing magic spells right now._ "I told you; I passed through there a few times. Not much to tell beyond that."

"What about the king? What was he like?" Harlan advanced upon him, kicking one of the fallen chairs out of his way and snapping one of its rickety legs.

"I never actually met him, but, as I told you. He's tyrannical." Gwaine thought for a moment. "There were rumors that he hated magic... _unless_ he could use it to gain more power. He killed almost as many sorcerers as Uther did. And why am I standing here telling you this? Why do you even want to know?"

Harlan growled low in his throat. "We received word from Deira. Sarrum's ships have been preying on coastal villages over the last few months. I don't have to tell you that Deira is a close ally."

_Yes, because your son married the king of Deira's daughter._ "Doesn't explain why you're interrogating me."

"Gwaine," Goddard said. As Gwaine's gaze moved to him, the ageing prince explained, "None of us have ever been there. Except you."

"Oh. I see. Now I'm your informant on all matters southern." He sent an accusing look at the king. 

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, nephew." 

Not for the first time since he'd entered the room, Gwaine resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Can I go now? Because I honestly don't know anything else about Amata that would be useful."

"Yes, get out!" Harlan said, still infuriated for whatever reason.

Gwaine spun around, moving to open the doors. Then, remembering how heavy they were, he snapped, " ** _Aetynan!_** "

The doors flew open so fast the guards behind them yelped and stumbled away. The low voices inside the council chambers ceased.

Realizing what he had done, Gwaine forced himself not to turn around.  _Though, to be honest, I'm dying to see their faces._ He found himself suppressing a smile as he strode away.

" _What the hell was that?_ " he heard the king yell. "You get back here, you…"

"Harlan, we talked about this. You yell at your children, I yell at mine," Goddard said. 

"But you  _never_  yell at yours!"

An hour later, Gwaine was still wondering why he'd gone and used magic in front of the entire king's council. But... _What does it matter? Mother was right; I'm not in Camelot. I'm in Bernicia where I belong and magic is nothing to be ashamed of._ Though he caught himself wondering what would have happened if his unpredictable magic had failed to open the door on the first try.  _That would've been...embarrassing. Huh. Guess I was lucky._

* * *

"Gwaine did  _what_?" Elwin gasped.

It was one of the times that several of the members of the Barclayn family were eating supper together. The king and queen were present, as were Aldwyn, Hertha, and the twins. Braeden had also come, but wasn't eating much as she had insisted on bringing Princess Alison, who had already become a bit of a handful despite being only couple weeks old.

As for the rest of the family, Gytha was usually in bed by this time of night, and Goddard had pleaded exhaustion as well. Gwaine had not shown up, and of course Haralda and Ela were still on their journey to Northumbria. Though Everard strongly suspected that Northumbria wasn't their destination; Gwaine had hinted as much.

It had been a ten days since Everard had confirmed his suspicions of Gwaine's magic. Since then, he'd found Gwaine practicing spells in various secluded places about the castle.  _I'm surprised about today's display, though._

"He threw the doors open using magic," Harlan said. "Then he walked out."

"How long has this been going on?" Aldwyn demanded. "How long has he been hiding this from us?"

"Aldwyn!" Braeden scolded. "Lower your voice! You're upsetting Alison."

"Sorry. Here, let me take her." Aldwyn reached over and took the squirming baby from his wife. "Hush, darling, I'm not angry with you," he cooed.

In the relative quiet that followed, Everard decided that he might as well say what he knew.  _If Uncle Goddard were here right now, he'd probably be saying it himself._ "Gwaine's had magic for a couple years now."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"And he kept it hidden from us for that long?  _How_?" Aldora asked.

"And how did you know?" Elwin said.

Avoiding his twin's gaze, Everard said, "Figured it out. Mostly by accident. He knows that I know."

"That boy is  _insane,_ " said Harlan. "First he disappears for ten years, then he becomes a knight of Camelot, and now he has magic. What next? He want to be king?"

"I highly doubt that," Aldora said. "And having magic does not equal insanity, Harlan."

"Then how do you explain the 'knight of Camelot' business? Sheer daring?"

Everard stood up. "Excuse me. I think I'll go to bed now."

"All right, Everard," His mother smiled warmly at him. "Sleep well."

"Speaking of sleeping," Aldwyn interjected, "Elwin, Everard, why are you two living in separate chambers now?"

"Wait, they're what?" Harlan glanced from one twin to the other.

_Oh, damn, he hadn't noticed yet. Thanks a lot, Aldwyn._ "We're growing up, is all," Everard said. "Right, Elwin?"

"Yeah." Elwin looked down at his plate.

Harlan made a frustrated noise. "No one _tells_ me of these things. I am the king; what's more, I'm your father! I have a right to know!"

"Harlan!" Aldora chided. "It's perfectly normal for two growing boys to want their own rooms. Calm down."

Slipping out as Harlan launched into a long-winded speech about how it seemed no one told him anything when he needed to know it, Everard was halfway down the hall before Hertha caught up to him. "Ev? Does Gwaine really, truly have magic?"

Halting, Everard looked down at his gangly sister. "Yes, he does."

"Well,  _I_  think it's exciting. I never thought he'd be a sorcerer." Hertha bounced on the balls of her feet, grinning. "Do you suppose he'll show me some spells?"

Everard ruffled her curls. "Maybe, if you ask nicely. But don't pester him too much about it."

_His magic is a good reason not to rile him these days. Who knows what he might do._

* * *

The sinking sun's rays struck the walls of Camelot's citadel, staining the pale stone gold. The smell of cooking fires filled the air. The people in the Lower Town were no doubt heading for their homes, anticipating their evening meals. The sky turned purple and gold as twilight approached.

Merlin strode jauntily across the smooth stones of the courtyard, a smile on his face. It had been a pleasant day thus far, and he had just finished all his chores. The king and queen had decided to shoo him out so they could eat in private, and he was free to head home for a while. _I'll check on them later_.  _Hopefully Gauis made dinner early tonight…I'm hungry._ His stomach growled loudly as if to agree.

However, his thoughts of food were momentarily forgotten when he entered the court physician's chambers. Two women he'd never seen before were there, one standing close to the door, the other near the middle of the room, speaking with Gaius. They all turned to face Merlin as the he entered.

"Merlin, there you are!"  _Gaius doesn't look worried, so it must be alright._ "As you can see, we have visitors."

"Hello." Merlin smiled at each of the women in turn.

The one near the door, much younger than the other, narrowed her brown eyes and grumbled something unintelligible. The other woman, despite having the appearance of a person who had recently in tears, smiled back at him, brushing blond hair away from her face. "Hello, Merlin." She stepped forward and held out her hand, which he took. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. My son has spoken most highly of you." Her bright blue eyes watched him closely.

It occurred to Merlin that both of the women looked a bit familiar. _The older one looks almost exactly like Gwaine's sister Elen, except for the blue eyes._ "You're…you're _Gwaine's_ mother/"

"Yes, I am."

"Ela and her niece Haralda arrived just a few minutes ago," Gaius explained. "Apparently they came to see you."

"When I realized that you were still alive, I was just as eager to visit you, Gaius," Ela remarked.

Merlin stared at her, wondering.  _She's a sorceress. Isn't it dangerous for her to be here? And why would she want to see me in particular? I can't think of a reason…_ "Is Gwaine in trouble?"

 

"No more than usual," the curly-haired woman... _Haralda, right_...said. Merlin felt relieved. 

Gaius said, "I assume you'll be staying with us?"

"Only if it's all right with you. We could get a room at the inn…"

"Nonsense, Ela. If you can put up with my cooking, we'll make room for you here."

"Well, I highly doubt your cooking could have gotten any  _worse_ over the last thirty years."

It was soon decided that Haralda and Ela would share Merlin's bedroom, while Merlin himself slept on the floor in the front room.

_That seems to happen to me a lot._ Merlin didn't mind all that much, really. But he was very curious to know the reason for the unexpected visit. _It can't be too urgent, or Ela would've said something...Haralda already said Gwaine was fine...though not in so many words..._

The reason for the visit came up over dinner, during which Merlin found himself sitting next to a stolid Haralda.  _She keeps staring at me._ He fidgeted under her dark gaze. 

Gaius and Ela reminisced about old times for a few minutes before Haralda said, "Aunt Ela, are you going to tell this twitchy sorcerer why we're here? I thought you said it was important."

Merlin's stomach lurched at the word "sorcerer", but he calmed himself down quickly.  _Magic's legal in Bernicia, remember? If Gwaine's been talking about me to his family, they probably all know I have magic. And the twins knew, as well._

Ela sent a disapproving look in Haralda's direction. "There's no reason to use that tone, young lady. Though," she hesitated, "I might as well get to the point." She looked at Merlin, her expression solemn, and he felt a rush of apprehension. "I know you are a Dragonlord, Merlin."

_So Gwaine told her that, too._ Merlin nodded. "What of it?"

"Do you remember Hayden?"

Merlin nodded again as Gaius asked, "Was that the wyvern tamer?"

"Yes, he is. Well…It seems that Hayden found a dragon. I haven't actually seen her as of yet…didn't have the time…but Gwaine said her name was…Aithusa?"

Merlin's mind flew back to the last time he had seen the white dragon, scrambling through a cave as he commanded her to leave. Later he had regretted that decision. _Could I have helped her?_  She had been unwell, and injured…"Aithusa? Is she all right? Where is she now?"

"She's staying with Hayden, apparently." Ela shifted in her seat. "He found her while he was hunting with his wyverns. He kept her a secret until Gwaine went to visit him. She told them that she had been with Morgana Pendragon."

"Merlin, did you say Morgana had trapped the dragon? Or was she staying with Morgana of her own free will?" Gaius said. 

"No, I think they were together as friends of a sort…"  _Not that I was very happy about it._ "She left Morgana?"

"It seems so. Gwaine said that she'd called the witch 'twisted' and had mentioned being trapped in some sort of dungeon. He said that might be why she's unhealthy, damaged."

"I agree. She isn't well at all." Merlin took a deep breath to calm himself; remembering Aithusa's limp, her pitiful cries, the gray tint of her scales, he felt a burning anger against whoever had caused it.  _If I ever find out who it was…_

Gaius said, "But she is not near death, correct?" 

"No, but we didn't know what to do with her, exactly. Perhaps Morgana might come looking for the dragon…naturally we didn't want that to happen."

"Not to mention that it's a bloody  _dragon,_ " Haralda drawled. "According to Gwaine, it's behaving for now. Who knows how long that's going to last?"

Merlin glared at her. "Yes, she's a _dragon_ , not some wyvern.  _She_  is intelligent." He looked back to Ela. "You wanted to inform me of her whereabouts."

"And ask for your help. As I said, we're not quite sure what to do with her. Or what would be best for her."

Merlin ran his hand through his hair. "Well, I'll need to speak with her, find out exactly what happened…maybe get her to join Kilgharrah…the Great Dragon…he could protect her, keep her safe from Morgana…But I'd have to go to Bernicia, wouldn't I?"

"Merlin is always rather reluctant to leave Camelot. He sees it as his duty to protect King Arthur," Gaius told Ela.

Haralda heard it, too. "That makes no sense whatsoever, considering that the Pendragon would kill any sorcerer for 'protecting' him, if that protection involves magic."

Merlin would have retaliated, but something else occurred to him, something he realized could be important. "Ela, you said that Aithusa  _spoke_  to Gwaine and Hayden, told them things. But the last I saw of her, she could not speak."

"Dragons are known to have telepathic abilities," said Gaius. 

"But only with those who have magic!"

Ela half-smiled. "It's a good thing my son has magic, then."


	11. Chapter 10

Trying to imagine Gwaine using magic was almost as difficult as imagining Arthur doing so.

_"You're kidding me."_

_"No, Merlin, I am not. Gwaine has magic."_

_"But…but he told me he didn't!"_

_"And that was the truth...when he last spoke to you. Things have changed since then."_

_"Oh. Uh…Are you absolutely sure…"_

_"In case you have forgotten, I_ am _a sorceress. I know what it looks like when someone uses magic. As I am certain you do as well."_

"Merlin!"

The warlock jumped as a pillow hit him on the back of the head. "What is wrong with you?" Arthur Pendragon asked, exasperated. "I've only said your name five times!"

"I apologize, sire, I was…um, thinking."

"You were  _thinking_." Arthur turned to face Guinevere, who was sitting on the bed, watching them with amusement. "Did you hear that, Gwen? He was  _thinking_."

"Oh, Arthur." Shaking her head, Gwen said, "Thank you, Merlin, you can go now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Your Majesties." Merlin gave Arthur an insolent grin before retrieving the dishes from the royals' dinner and exiting the room. He immediately became immersed in his thoughts once more as he headed towards to palace kitchens. He had been preoccupied ever since dinner...ever since Ela had coolly informed him that Gwaine now had magic.

Apparently, this had been news to Haralda, too. While Merlin had sat in shocked silence, she had voiced her own disbelief, loudly. Only after Ela had told her to be quiet had Merlin been able to collect his thoughts and say anything. The princess had muttered something along the lines of, "No one ever tells me  _anything_." and had not said another word in Merlin's hearing afterward.

Gaius had handled the news with more aplomb than Merlin.  _Maybe he's gotten so old that nothing surprising anymore._ Merlin, for one, kept recalling every instance Gwaine had said that he didn't have magic. And, yes, trying to imagine Gwaine using magic.

Ela's explanation hadn't made much sense, though it was clear that she didn't understand it herself.  _So Gwaine's sister Elen lost her mind due to what happened to her at the hands of Haig and his followers, and somehow Gwaine ended up with her magic._ Merlin had come across many instances of bizarre magic, but this one baffled him.  _How can magic simply "switch" to another person?_

Then again, that wasn't even the real problem, was it? The real problem was Aithusa.

After her hatching years ago, Merlin had seen her leave the clearing near Camelot, trailing after Kilgharrah into the starry night. He had assumed at the time that the young dragon would remain with Kilgharrah, being protected, being taught the wisdom of dragons, and so forth. Merlin had assumed, rather naively, that his task was finished. He had called forth the white dragon from the egg, and that should have been it.

With all the weight of Albion's future on his shoulders, he hadn't been exactly eager to pursue the responsibilities that being a Dragonlord might entail. Of course, any such responsibilities would probably have been more burdensome when there were more dragons. Kilgharrah, at least, could quite take care of himself.

Maybe if magic wasn't banned in Camelot, Merlin might have kept Aithusa with him for a few years.  _Then maybe Aithusa would have never been imprisoned…and deformed…_ And she probably wouldn't have ended up in Bernicia with a wyvern tamer and a man who had somehow, in the last couple years, ended up with magic.

Merlin still considered Gwaine his friend, despite everything, but more than that…

_He's a fellow sorcerer._ Somehow, this was exciting.  _I knew that he wasn't afraid of my magic, that he sympathized with how I had to keep my talents hidden. But now…now he can understand what it's like...to have so much more power than ordinary men._

Merlin knew well enough that Gwaine's magic, such as it was, would never match that of "the mighty Emrys", but that didn't really matter, in his opinion.

_One of my closest friends had magic._ A fact which just gave Merlin another reason to want to go on a trip to Bernicia.

* * *

Ela slept in later than she normally did her first morning in Camelot. By the time she woke up, Merlin had gone to work for the king and Haralda had gone to the Lower Town.

"She promised not to cause any trouble," Gaius assured her. "Should I have stopped her?"

"I don't see how you could have." Ela smiled as she absentmindedly stirred her breakfast porridge. "She's a princess, remember. She's used to getting her way. If she doesn't…it's not pretty. Sometimes it's downright shameful, but I'm not her mother. I can't do much about it."

"Indeed." Gaius sat down across the table from her. "I'm glad you slept well."

"I was surprised that I did, actually." Passing through the rest of Camelot on the way to the physician's chambers had been agony, for her at least. Haralda had seemed fascinated by the place in general, but Ela had caught herself not only crying at the first view of the city from the road, but looking over her shoulder every few seconds in the town itself. "I thought I would be too nervous."

"I understand. It cannot be easy." Pause. "We didn't have time to talk about it last night…I was wondering, if you're up to discussing it…How, exactly, did you end up in Bernicia?"

"Well…" Ela set down her spoon. "There isn't all that much to tell. After I escaped Camelot, I could have headed either north or south. The first road I found went north. So I followed the road, until it disappeared, then I found another, and followed that. So I kept going, until not too long after I fled my old homeland, I came to a place where the trees gave way to looming fells, where many of the people swore allegiance to no king, and where those who hunted people with magic had no power to harm. I found myself in Bernicia. There I stayed."

"Simple enough of a tale, but I also am wondering how a sorceress from Camelot attracted the eye of a prince." Gaius raised one eyebrow, causing Ela to chuckle.

"I made a small living assisting an older healer in a village not far from the city of Bernicia. Not long after I had settled in there, a hunting party of nobles came through. One of them had been injured slightly by a boar. The healer I was an assistant to was visiting other patients, so I tended to the man's wound. It was only afterwards, when the hunting party was departing, that I learned the man I had healed was the younger brother of Crown Prince Harlan." She paused, remembering. "I hadn't been very…respectful while I was treating him…I don't approve of hunting in general…and I was embarrassed, but he didn't seem to mind."

When she didn't continue for a few moments, Gaius prompted, "And?"

"He came back. Over and over again, he came back to the village, always bringing some small gift for me. I was very withdrawn at the time…I was still grieving for my…my family, but Goddard slowly gained my trust. Finally I told him all about myself, and what had happened…It was a few days later that he asked me to be his wife. I refused, initially. I felt awful, like I had destroyed any chance of happiness in my future…then, he came back. And asked me again."

"And you said yes."

"I was lonely. And very much in love at the same time."

"His father…the king of Bernicia then…was all right with his second son marrying someone of your station?"

"Dalbert was exactly like Harlan is now." Remembering that Gaius had never met Harlan, Ela clarified, "Loud and temperamental. Goddard didn't exactly ask for permission to marry me, but everyone accepted it soon enough, including the king. I suspect it helped that he wasn't betrothed and there was a shortage of nearby eligible princesses available for marriage at the time."

"I suppose the most eligible had to go to the older brother."

"Precisely. Hence, Harlan married Aldora, whose brother is currently the king of Strathclyde."

"Ah." Gaius narrowed his eyes at her. "Ela, have you been happy?"

She considered it for a long moment. "Yes," she finally said. "Except for…for Gwaine's disappearance, and Elen's…condition, I've been happy. There are worse places to live than Bernicia."

"Like here, I suppose."

He was giving her a look rather similar to the one he had used to give her during their teaching sessions, whenever he had asked her a question and had expected a detailed answer.

All she had now was another question. "How have you been, Gaius? How has Camelot been?" From what she had seen, it was thriving.  _But what happened immediately after I escaped? And after that? How did the kingdom recover from the bloodshed of the Great Purge?_

Gaius took a long time to respond. "Alice fled, as I'm sure you knew she would."

Recalling Gaius's fiancée, Ela nodded.  _She was an odd woman, but a kind one._

"She returned eventually…but she had become involved with a vicious manticore…she had to flee again."

Ela swallowed, looking down at the tabletop. "And…the others? The other sorcerers?"

"Most of them were hunted down and slaughtered. That or they fled far away and never returned." Gaius looked tired. "It was years before the almost nonstop bloodshed ceased. And twenty years later, Uther was still killing people who had magic. Sorcerers, druids, magical creatures…it mattered not. The king never changed his views nor his laws. Those with magic paid the price."

_Like my siblings._

"Eventually, the killing slowed, if only because there were fewer sorcerers to kill. Uther used the death penalty for other crimes, as well."

"Magic isn't a crime," Ela muttered. She looked up again at her former mentor. "Bernicians understand that."  _My son understood that once._

"Arthur isn't as cruel." Gaius said after a moment's silence. "He does not hunt and kill druids; he knows them to be a peaceful people."

"According to Gwaine, Arthur kills those with magic." 

"Only those who use their power to attack Camelot."

"But if a young sorcerer…let's say, a child…were to accidentally use magic to, say, summon a butterfly…wouldn't that warrant execution by the standards of Arthur Pendragon?"

"One day things will be different."

"According to whom?" Ela snorted. "Your golden king?" She couldn't suppress the anger in her voice. 

Gaius remained calm. "Merlin, for one, believes that one day things will change…for the better."

"You seem to place a great deal of trust in that boy, Gaius. Why?"  _He may be a sorcerer and a Dragonlord, but he is still rather young…_

"Well…"

* * *

"What the  _hell_  were you thinking?" Merlin hissed.

"Get your hands off me!" 

Merlin glowered at Haralda as a couple guards strode past the alcove in which he and the Bernician princess were currently ensconced. Once they had passed, he let go of her arm. "You said you were going to explore the Lower Town, not roam about the royal palace!"

"I was in the Lower Town, but in case you haven't noticed, it's mid afternoon now. I got bored. And I don't see how it's a bloody problem anyway!"

"Fine, then. To be fair, it isn't all that bad that you're poking around the castle, as long as you're not causing any trouble. It's more the fact that you walked up to a group of knights in the courtyard…knights who happen to have  _met your brothers_  and who have  _heard your name before_ …and started talking to them!"

"Relax, Dragonlord. I'm not stupid. They think I'm a Northumbrian peasant girl named Hazel."

Merlin stared at her. "Okay, so they don't know who you are. What possessed you to talk to them in the first place?"

"As I said, I was bored."

A long pause. "I don't understand you at all," Merlin stated.

"Good thing I never asked you to. Now, may I leave this dark corner or are you going to keep me here all damn day?"

Merlin relaxed a bit.  _It was just a couple minutes of light conversation she had with the knights; no harm's been done._ "You'd probably kill me if I tried that. I know you're carrying at least two daggers right now."

With a snort, Haralda moved around him and started down the hallway, only halting to say, "It's three, actually."

_Three daggers. Plus the sword she was wearing under her cloak yesterday, and the two throwing axes she carries in her pack. Either she always carries this many weapons, or she was expecting trouble when she started on her journey with Lady Ela._

Perhaps it was both. After all, Bernicia was a long way from Camelot, and Merlin knew from personal experience some of the many dangers that lurked in the lands between.

He'd remained preoccupied all day..his chores had suffered as a result...considering his course of action with the information he had received.  _Can I leave Camelot for a few weeks? Go to Bernicia, sort out the mess with Aithusa, then return? Not without my absence going unnoticed_.  _With some consideration, I could most likely come up with a convincing lie…a visit to see my mother, for example…Gaius would cover for me…just so long as he doesn't mention taverns…but that would be the purpose of a prearranged story…_ Honestly, he did want to go.

_But my first duty is always to protect Arthur..._ Considering how much trouble the king got into on a regular basis, Merlin was very reluctant to forsake that duty.  _It wouldn't be for_ that  _long, though…_

So his mental argument continued. The incident with Haralda and the knights had not done anything to help his state of mind.

Nor did it help him reach a clear decision.


	12. Chapter 11

 

"Gaius, I need you to cover for me while I travel to Bernicia and back."

The aging physician looked up from his potion-brewing, eyebrow raised. "I suppose this means you're going?"

Merlin glanced around surreptitiously, even though there was no one in the physician's chambers besides the two of them. "Well…yes. Do I even have a choice?"

"You tell me." Gaius returned to his work. "Yes, Merlin, of course I'll cover for you. But what story am I to use this time? And please be more specific than 'anything but the tavern'."

Merlin leaned against the nearest bench and said, "I was thinking that it's been a while since I visited my mother."

"Merlin!" Gaius turned to him once more.

Before he could say anything else, Merlin stammered, "I could actually visit her briefly…it's not too far out of the way, I don't think…it's not like I'm just using my mother as an excuse…" He ran out of breath.

"If you'd bothered to listen to what I had to say, you'd know that I was merely surprised you'd come up with such a reasonable idea. Arthur, who would need the most explanation, knows quite well how important your mother is to you. As long as you don't dally on this trip, he shouldn't even get too suspicious." Gaius chuckled. "You _should_ still visit her, though." 

"If Ela is alright with it."  _And if Haralda doesn't try to murder me for suggesting it._

Merlin usually got along with people in general...provided they weren't evil...but he was having a difficult time finding anything pleasant about Princess Haralda. She reminded him of the much-younger Arthur he'd first met, combined with a sort of harder edge. When she spoke, she was either complaining or making sarcastic comments.  _A bit like Gwaine, minus the humor._ _Maybe she's just tense._

"I'm sure Ela wouldn't mind if you made a quick detour."

"Or I could just visit Mother on the journey back."

"True. But you still should plan to leave soon. Oh, and are you planning on telling the Great Dragon about this?"

"Well…I haven't seen him in a while. But I guess I should tell him…Actually, Gaius, I'm worried about his reaction to the fact Aithusa was with Morgana…I sort of feel like I should talk to the young dragon first, just in case…" He trailed off.

Gauis raised his eyebrow. "You're afraid he may be angry with Aithusa."

"Yeah, well...a bit."

* * *

 

Ela was glad when Merlin said he was going to accompany her and Haralda back to Bernicia, and that he was willing to leave as soon as possible. It wouldn't be soon enought; she'd wondered how it would feel to be back in Camelot, and now she knew. It hurt.

The city was still beautiful; the people seemed happy. But as she wandered through the paved streets, she could not admire it as she wished she could, nor could she allow herself to become immersed in old memories. The only memories that kept resurfacing were the painful ones. She saw death everywhere she looked, though she kept telling herself to give the kingdom a chance. It had been thirty years since her last "visit", after all.

At one point, she had seen Arthur Pendragon. He had been riding through the Lower Town with some of his knights. Ela had noticed, with some interest, that he looked far more like former Queen Ygraine than the old king Uther. And he had stopped a couple times, to speak briefly with some of the commoners, as if they were friends rather than subjects.  _Astonishing._

Even more astonishing was the fact that the present queen of Camelot was a former servant. Gwaine had told Ela that before, of course, but seeing Queen Guinevere in reality, albeit from a distance, was an odd experience.  _The king knights commoners, the queen was a servant…things are upside-down in Camelot nowadays._

Practically everywhere knights had always been nobility. And marriage amongst nobility had always been rather strict in the southern lands, if not all lands. Even in Bernicia, where the rules relaxed on occasion...Ela's marriage to Goddard being one example...the general expectation was that nobles married nobles. It didn't surprise her that Arthur hadn't married Guinevere until after Uther's death.

_Uther is dead._ She kept telling herself that, too. Yes, Arthur killed those with magic as well, but he wasn't so vicious about it.

To her, it didn't matter. He might be a fair and just king to his people, but to Ela, he was a Pendragon. He was a murderer.

From what Ela had gathered, Gwaine didn't think so. He was angry with Arthur; that much was clear. But something told her that her son didn't think of the young king as a monster, which was how he viewed Uther. She was having a harder time making the distinction between father and son. Which was just another reason besides the memories for her to leave Camelot as soon as possible.

Well, and the dragon. That was important too. Merlin seemed very concerned.  _How is he going to convince Arthur to let him leave Camelot? The way he talks about Arthur…even using his mother as an excuse…_

As long as the warlock figured it out soon, Ela didn't care.

* * *

"Sire, I…uh…Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Arthur and Gwen both looked up at Merlin. "Merlin, you have not shut up the entire time you started setting out dinner for us." The king grinned, gesturing towards the table before him. "And now it turns out you have something to say that isn't idle chatter?"

"Do you need to talk to Arthur alone, Merlin?" the queen asked. "In that case…"

"Uh, no, that won't be necessary."  _All right, Merlin, pull yourself together._ For some reason, he still had trouble telling lies that weren't spontaneous. "I probably should talk it over with both of you…You, um, remember my mother?"

"Don't be silly, Merlin, of course we do!" Gwen's expression became concerned. "Is she in some sort of trouble?"

"Are bandits attacking Ealdor again?" Arthur asked. "If so, I can…"

"No, no! Mother's not in trouble, and there's no bandits...It's just that I haven't seen her in a long time. We write each other, but…I just feel like I ought to go home for a little while…make sure everything's really all right, you know…I just thought I'd ask…"  _Okay, maybe a little hesitancy actually makes it more convincing…_

"Merlin, of course you can go and visit your mother! You don't have to be afraid to ask! I know how you must miss her. In fact, I think it's a wonderful idea. Don't you, Arthur?" Gwen nudged her husband.

Arthur's brow furrowed. "How long would you be gone, Merlin?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe a couple weeks, or three?"

"A couple weeks!" Arthur exclaimed. Gwen slapped him on the shoulder. "Ow! How am I supposed to manage without my manservant for two weeks or more?"

"George can fill in for me." Merlin grinned at Arthur's expression of horror.

Gwen said, "He's right, Arthur. We can get someone to be your manservant until he returns." She smiled at at the servant. "Please give Hunith my regards when you see her, Merlin." Then she shot Arthur a look to keep him from protesting again. It worked.

There were still a few details to be ironed out, but for the most part, Merlin would say that it went rather well.


	13. Chapter 12

It was an undisputed fact that Bernicia was, climate-wise, a chilly place.

So it wasn't surprising when the spring weather turned freezing overnight and the grey clouds dumped snow across the fells. Everard woke early to find the castle walls and the rooftops in the town draped in white. As he took a brisk walk along the parapets in the dawn light, his breath made clouds in the air before him. He had to proceed with caution because some of the stones were slippery with ice. Chill and ice aside, it was a beautiful morning. The clouds were sliding away over the horizon, driven by the wind. The rising sun had only just begun to touch the hillsides, making the snow light up like a thousand sparkling flames.

It was blessedly quiet out, for which Everard was grateful. Sometimes it was nice to get away from the endless noise created by everyone else he knew during their day to day lives. And there was an air of tension over the king's council these days. It had taken Everard a while to notice it, but once he had, he couldn't stop seeing it. Harlan was more irascible than ever, which put everyone on edge. Meanwhile Goddard spoke little, and when he did, his words seemed heavy.

Now Everard himself was worried; he'd learned of the attacks on Deira by Amata.  _Just some raids, for now…but couldn't it lead to war?_

He wasn't left with his own thoughts for as long as he'd like before Aldwyn waylaid him. "Good morning, brother; it's never too difficult to find you at this hour."

Everard snorted. "I'm a creature of habit. Is there something you need, Aldwyn?"

"Come with me." The older man then grabbed his arm and dragged him into the castle. "This has gone on long enough!" Aldwyn proclaimed as soon as they were inside and the danger of slipping on icy stones had disappeared.

"What has gone on long enough? My morning walks? I wouldn't think that you would care!" Everard twisted his arm violently to free it from his brother's grip.

Aldwyn released him and said, "I could care less when you take walks, Everard. That's not what I'm talking about." He continued down the narrow stone passageway towards the center of the castle.

Everard hurried after him. "Then what are you talking about?"

"You'll see! Just hurry up!"

* * *

Gwaine didn't think this was the best idea Aldwyn had ever come up with. Particularly when he was delegated the thankless task of tracking down Elwin.  _Aldwyn gets to find Everard, the twin who will give him a minimum amount of trouble, if any, while I have to find the one who will_ definitely _give me trouble._

Finding him wasn't too hard, though. The boy was still in bed.

"Time to wake up, cousin!"

"Ugh…go 'way!"

"Not a chance."

"It's too early..."

"Not according to Aldwyn. Get up." Gwaine resisted the urge to literally drag Elwin out of the bed.

"Numph," Elwin grumbled into his pillow.

Then Gwaine lost his temper. He had been up half the night trying to get Elen to calm down after a bad bout of nightmares and was now being forced to help stage an intervention which he didn't believe was necessary or would work.

So he set the bed curtains on fire.

Seconds later, Elwin screamed and tumbled onto the floor. "What are you  _doing_?" he shrieked, horror-struck.

Gwaine rolled his eyes. " ** _Acwencan._** " The flames vanished, leaving the curtains charred at the edges. "Waking you up. And look; it worked!"

Elwin tried to glare at him threateningly, but his hair, so messy that it stood on end, spoiled the effect. "Fine, what did you want me to wake up for?"

"Get dressed and I'll show you."

Of course, the entire situation went badly from the moment Gwaine walked into the dusty armory with Elwin to find Aldwyn and Everard already there.

" _What the hell is going on?_ "

It was almost amusing how the twins spoke in unison whilst glaring at each other, but Gwaine wasn't in the mood to laugh. "Aldwyn, start talking. This wasn't my idea."

"Fine then. Everard, Elwin…You've been behaving like idiots." 

"So what?" Elwin snarled.

_Not a particularly intelligent response, but this is Elwin, after all._

Everard kept calm, but his voice was as cold as the frozen landscape outside as he said, "Aldwyn, this is unnecessary, and pointless. You cannot force me and Elwin to start talking again, if that's what you're after. We'll solve our differences in our own time."

_Or not at all, judging by the look on his face. I knew this was a bad idea._

"And how long will that be? Everyone is becoming worried about you two, especially Mother and Father. In fact, Father would probably be here himself, talking some sense into you, if he wasn't busy with the council…"

_No, Harlan wouldn't be talking sense into them. He'd be hitting them over the head. And throwing things._

As Elwin launched into an angry rant, mostly about how he wished that people would stop treating him and Everard like children, Gwaine sighed.  _Why couldn't Aldwyn just leave it alone? He was fine with doing that a few days ago._ Clearly he had changed his mind on that point.  _I should've asked him why earlier._

By the time Aldwyn had started to shout at Elwin and Everard began to look ready to join in, Gwaine decided he'd had enough. He slipped out of the armory quickly as the voices behind him grew in volume.

_I understand what Aldwyn's trying to do. He's trying to get the twins to act like they always used to. But this will probably just make it worse._

And again he wondered why Aldwyn had suddenly decided to force the twins to confront each other.

He found out that afternoon, when he discovered Everard sitting on a pile of straw in the stables. Hesitating at first, he took a seat next to the teenager. "How're you, cousin?"

Everard didn't answer, instead staring straight ahead with his jaw clenched. Gwaine noticed that his eyes looked suspiciously red. "About this morning, Everard…I honestly think Aldwyn as just trying to…"

"He said things about me," Everard blurted out.

"Huh? Aldwyn?"

"Elwin." Everard took a breath. "To the other trainee knights, in the tavern, on the training field…I'm not sure…he said things about me, like how I think I'm better than everyone else, how I'd rather read than fight, how I'm weak, how I'm a coward…" His voice cracked and his soft broken words ceased.

Gwaine sat in stunned silence for a moment. "Aldwyn heard him talking about you like that?"

"Yesterday, apparently…though I guess it wasn't the first time Elwin…When they were shouting at each other, it all came out…" Everard stopped again and rubbed his eyes. "I never…never thought he'd say things like that about me…never thought he'd lie…They're not true, none of them…"

_I'd never imagine it happening, either. Aldwyn must've been shocked as well; he probably thought it would be best out in the open._ Despite the coldness Gwaine had recently observed between the twins, he had never thought that Elwin make such cruel statements about his own brother.

Everard seemed done with talking, so Gwaine merely stayed seated beside him, silent, for a while longer.

* * *

Merlin left Camelot at dawn one morning, shortly after Lady Ela and Princess Haralda had departed. He met them outside the city about an hour later. From their meeting place, they turned north.

_Best to deal with Aithusa as soon as possible._ However the outcome in with that situation, Merlin still planned to visit his mother on the way back to Camelot.  _Hopefully we won't get waylaid there or on the way back._ Though he supposed he'd be alone then… _I won't worry about it until I have to,_ he decided.  _Anyway, I can use magic all I want without the knights around._

It had taken some arguing for Arthur to let him go alone.  _It would have been disastrous if he actually forced me to accept a couple knights as an escort._

_"Honestly, Arthur, I traveled from Ealdor to Camelot on foot once, and nothing happened! It's not that far; I'll be fine! You need your knights here in case something happens!"_

Arthur hadn't appreciated that, but had finally relented.

The first day, at least, was uneventful. Haralda rode a short distance ahead, while Merlin and Ela followed. Mostly the two sorcerers spoke of the old days of Camelot, though that seemed to upset Ela, so Merlin began telling her about his more humorous experiences in Camelot. She laughed so hard when she heard about the troll Lady Catrina that she nearly fell off her horse. Haralda circled her mount back at that point and demanded to know what was so funny. Upon hearing the story herself, she actually chuckled.

But throughout the day, Haralda seemed preoccupied and devoid of her usual sarcastic commentary, even when all three of them were conversing together. Merlin put it down to the stress that came with traveling through dangerous lands.

That night, after Haralda had gone to sleep and Merlin and Ela were still sitting up by the fire, the older woman asked, "Merlin, I have a question for you. You do not have to answer it."

He shrugged. "I will answer it if I can."

A short silence followed before she said, "At some point in the last few days, I asked Gaius why he trusts you so much. He told me about some of the things you've done…and that you're Emrys. Is that so?"

"...Yes."

"The greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth," she murmured after a moment, "and he serves a Pendragon."

"Arthur is the Once and Future King who will unite all the lands. It is my destiny to protect him."

"Are you certain of that, Merlin?"

He longed to say yes. But he could not. Not to this woman who had lost so much to the power of the Pendragons. "I don't know. Yet…I  _want_  to be certain of it."

"Of course. Being uncertain is not something that is easy to accept." Ela smiled faintly. "Perhaps you are a fool to protect a man who would have you killed for who you are, Merlin. Or perhaps you are brave. It is not for me to judge." She stood and picked up her bedroll. "Goodnight, Merlin."

"Goodnight." As Merlin watched her settle on the ground to sleep, thinking over her words, a memory surfaced.

_"A sorcerer, choosing to serve a master who would have him killed if the truth were known? You're a far braver man than I, Merlin."_

Gwaine had said that to him.

The warlock sighed.  _Perhaps I am merely a brave fool. Arthur would probably agree._

That made him smile.

* * *

_Empty._

Something was gone. Something important.

The realization of this absence was what wrenched Elen from slumber, leaving her wide awake.

"What…" she croaked, lurching out of the chair she had apparently fallen asleep in. Feeling dizzy and confused, she fell to her knees on the floor, blinking in the bright sunlight coming in through the window.

_Wait, I recognize that window…Since when have I been staying in the royal castle?_

To be honest, she felt confused about everything at the moment, beginning with exactly how long she'd been asleep and ending with why she felt the bizarre sensation of emptiness deep inside her.

_I was dreaming about shadows…lots of shadows…What? I don't understand._

Pushing herself onto her feet, she looked around again, feeling the slight chill in the air. She looked at the fireplace where a few pieces of unburnt wood lay and muttered, " ** _Forbearnan._** "

Nothing happened. Panicked, she tried again, to no avail.

Abruptly, the emptiness made sense.

_I don't have magic anymore._

"How is that possible?"  _And why is my voice so hoarse?_

_When was the last time you used magic?_ she asked herself, trying to calm down.

_This can't be happening…_

Then she remembered everything. Her futile spells. The shackles that burned into her skin as she fought against them. The stinking cell. The grasping hands of her captors as they touched her….

As her minute or two of clarity shattered around her, she screamed so loud that no less than six servants came running.

She was unconscious by the time they reached her room.


	14. Chapter 13

Ever since the previous afternoon, when he had felt an intense flash of fear and pain that was not his own and had rushed to his sister's room to find several servants trying to rouse her, Gwaine had barely spoken a word to anyone. After making certain that Elen had merely fainted and was in no immediate danger of dying, he had gone back to his room and practiced the most difficult magic spells he could manage until he was exhausted and shaking. He woke up several times in the night and each time went to check on his sister, each time finding no change worth noting. In the morning, he spent about an hour tearing up practice dummies before returning to Elen's side. He avoided everyone, not wishing to carry on even a simple conversation in the black mood he was in. He even refrained from speaking to his father when the older man tried to talk to him.

_Why is this happening? I thought…I had hoped she was getting better._ After that one moment, days ago, when her gaze had been clear for a single second, he had hoped that she was at last recovering from what had happened to her two years ago.

But apparently not. When she woke up the morning after her sudden collapse, her eyes were dull and lifeless once again.

Gwaine could have screamed in frustration, but decided against it. Not only would it frighten his sister in her delicate state, it would also in all probability release some kind of magic spell. He wasn't in the mood to break any more windows.

_I wish she was recovering. I wish I could communicate with her somehow, make her better myself. I wish Mother were here._ Though she might not have any idea what to do, either. Goddard seemed completely helpless. Gwaine knew that he wasn't much better.  _The court physician is no help, either._

"If I could just talk to you, Elen…" Gwaine muttered as he cradled her cold fingers in his hands. "Maybe…"

_There's no way to talk to her, no way that she actually understands. I've heard of sorcerers who can reach into the minds of others…but I don't know anyone who would be strong enough to get through to Elen and I know I'm not. Still, the last time she was…herself…for a moment, I'd seen her in a dream just before that, like when we were children…but that was a complete accident, I can't just make it happen…_

Only, he had once, hadn't he? 

A couple minutes later, he had reached the court physicians rooms and had wrenched the door open. "Norvin!" he yelled as he stepped into the cluttered, damp, and very smelly room.  _Is he raising rodents in here?_

The reedy, middle-aged man he had called for popped out from behind a shelf. "Lord Gwaine! Has Lady Elen's condition worsened?"

"No, that's not why I'm here. I need a sleeping draught…the stronger, the better."

The physician stared at him. "For Lady Elen?"

"No, for me. I'm…experimenting."

"Is that…is that advisable, my lord?"

Gwaine laughed out loud, a strange sense of exhilaration overtaking him as he realized the utter insanity of his idea. "Not at all, but I'm doing it anyway."

Norvin still looked worried, but he couldn't refuse the request of a member of the royal family. "I need to know exactly how strong you want this potion, my lord."

"I need a dose strong enough to knock me out for an entire day." He stifled another laugh at the sight of Norvin's eyes all but bulging out of his skull. 

"My…my lord, that is most unwise…"

"Norvin, I have never been and probably never will be wise in any capacity. Make the potion; I want it as soon as possible."

_Whether or not this works the way I want it to, at least I might get a decent nap._

* * *

_I'm scared._

Once, she would've been embarrassed to admit such a feeling. But now, curled up and hidden in a tiny hollow in her strange, isolated shadow-land, she could feel nothing but fear. She shivered with it, unable to shut her eyes or relax for an instant. She didn't know how long she'd been where she was. She wasn't even sure who or what she was hiding from; it didn't matter, she just knew that she had to stay hidden.

So when she heard a voice calling her name, she froze.

_No, no, go away…_

"Elen! Elen, can you hear me?"

_Wait…I know that voice…_

The sense of familiarity grew as the voice grew nearer. It was comforting enough to make her at least curious as to who it belonged to. Slowly, she uncurled herself and stood up, unsteady in her movements.

He saw her. "Elen!" He approached her, halting when she flinched. "Elen, don't you know who I am?"

As she stared at him, a memory surfaced.

_"You're an irresponsible idiot, little brother."_

_"'Little brother'? If I'm 'little', then you're and ugly old toad, Elen!"_

Her twin brother. She knew him. She remembered him.

"Gwaine." All the strength seemed to go out of her muscles, and she dropped back down to a sitting position.

After a moment, her brother joined her. He sat close, and she managed not to move away. "Elen…"

"Where are we? Is this a dream?"

"I think so…close enough."

"How did you get here?"

"It's…it's complicated."

_Didn't we…Yes, we used to share dreams when we were children. Oh, and that one other time…while he was in Camelot…_

A moment later, she felt as if she'd been hit with a torrent of memories from many parts of her life, all jumbled together and vying for her immediate attention. Some happy, some sad, some terrifying… _Stop, stop! Too many…_ She clamped her eyes shut, trying to stop them from overwhelming her.

"Elen?" She felt his hand touching hers.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, perplexed. "You…you ran away. Because…" She swallowed. "Because you'd hurt Father."

He nodded, his expression pained.

"I found you…by accident…" She trailed off. "Everard and Elwin…they were in Camelot, with you…You were a knight. You helped me escape…"  _Why was I escaping, thought? I don't quite…_

"You got it into your head that it would be a good idea to kill Arthur Pendragon," Gwaine said. "Then you got into a fight with his manservant, Merlin…who happens to be a sorcerer. I helped you get out of Camelot. Then…" He stopped.

"I was captured."  _No, I am not recalling_ those _memories now…_

It was no use. She whimpered as they flooded over her once more, causing her to double over.

She felt Gwaine wrap his arm around her shoulders, speaking urgently. "Elen, don't do this. We found you; we rescued you. You're  _safe,_  Elen. You have been for a long time."

_Safe. He's my brother, he wouldn't lie about that…Safe. I must be. I have to trust him._

It took a few minutes, but she finally pulled herself together enough to straighten and meet her brother's gaze. "We're in Bernicia?"

"Yes, in the royal castle. You've been…absent. In your mind, I mean. It's…it's hard to explain…" His dark eyes stared deep into hers. "It's like you've been asleep, Elen…Now it's time to wake up. Please, I know you can…"

Elen listened to him as she considered something else that seemed far more important. " _You're_  in Bernicia?"  _You're back with us? With your family?_

"Yes, I…" He paused. Then understanding dawned on his face. "Yes, Elen, I'm home now. I'm not going anywhere."

She wanted to cry, for some reason. "I missed you."

He smiled. "I missed you, too. But, Elen…Please, you have to…I want my sister back. Don't go away again. Please don't. Come back with me."

"Come back where?"

"To the real world. Away from this place."

She looked around at the shadows surrounding her. "But…but I'm safe here…"

_And yet, if I'm safe here, why do I feel so afraid?_

"You don't have to stay here and hide, Elen. You're stronger than that. I know you are." He gripped her shoulders, giving her a slight shake. "Don't you dare hide from us again." he added. "Don't hide from me."

She nodded, but her breath hitched. "Gwaine, I'm scared." she confessed.

"I know." 

Tears started leaking from her eyes and she dropped into his embrace, sobs tearing out of her.

_I want to wake up…I want to get away from here…but I'm still afraid…_

* * *

He didn't necessarily expect to find Gwaine sleeping in a chair next to Elen's bedside, but it wasn't that unusual of a sight, so he took care to shut the door quietly.  _Has Gwaine been in here all day?_ Everard had been out riding for most of the day himself, and couldn't recall seeing Gwaine the evening before, either.  _He's so worried about Elen…I don't really blame him…_

He sighed and looked down at his two cousins. Something seemed…off about both of them. It took him a moment to figure it out.  _They've both got tear tracks all over their faces…and Gwaine's far too pale…and his breathing doesn't sound right…_

Everard drew in a quick, frightened breath. Sprinting to the door, he yanked it open and yelled into the hall, " _Uncle Goddard_!"

The older man promptly came stumbling out of his own room. "Everard, what is the matter?"

"Come here!"

Goddard followed Everard back into the room. "Look, Uncle, Elen's been crying, and Gwaine looks sick…"

It only took a couple seconds for Goddard to see it as well. Turning, he said to a confused servant who had just arrived, "Get the court physician. Now." As the servant scurried off, Goddard leaned over his son. "Gwaine," he said, shaking the young man by the shoulder. "Gwaine! _Damn it_."

The old prince's attention was on his son, so Everard noticed first when Elen stirred and opened her eyes. "Uncle…"

"What?" Goddard snapped, looking around at him. Everard pointed. "Oh, hell…make sure she doesn't panic, will you?" Goddard went back to trying to wake Gwaine.

Approaching Elen, who was now attempting to sit up, Everard said, "Relax, it's all right…"

She stared at him blearily as the court physician came darting in. "Oh, dear…I can explain, my lord!"

Goddard straightened up, his expression stony. Everard edged away. He wasn't used to such a terrifying expression on his uncle's face.

"Please do explain, Norvin, if you know why I am currently unable to rouse Gwaine."

"He said it was an experiment…something about dreaming…and the Lady Elen, though I didn't quite understand…And he wanted to be unconscious for an entire day…"

_Oh, so he_ was _here the entire day?_

"So…you drugged my son into deep unconsciousness because he  _asked_ you to?"

_Why would he want to be drugged like that, anyway?_ Something about the situation felt familiar…very familiar…

"Oh, _damn_!" Everard cried. "He's done this before!"

"He has?" Norvin had the nerve to sound curious.

"What exactly are you talking about, Everard?" Goddard demanded, his eyes still on the physician.

"In Camelot…it was an accident. He, uh, overdosed on sleeping potion he was taking for nightmares…it was while Elwin and I were staying there. I don't know why he'd be doing it now…"

"I told you; it was something to do with dreams! He didn't explain it fully!" The physician was wringing his hands by this point.

"Idiot boy." Goddard groaned in frustration. "Where is my wife when I need her?" 

_Oh, I don't know…out chasing other sorcerers?_

"Where  _is_ Mother?" a croaky voice spoke from behind them.

Norvin let out a startled gasp and Everard felt his jaw drop.  _That wasn't…_ He spun around just as his uncle did the same.

Elen was sitting up in bed. Her words rasped in her throat as she said, "I asked where Mother is."

Goddard appeared ready to keel right over as he whispered, "Elen?"

She frowned, her gaze moving from him to Gwaine. "What…Gwaine…I don't…Father, I…"

She didn't get any further before Goddard moved forward, sat down on the bed, and reached out to cradle his daughter's face in his hands. "You're…you've come back to us." His voice trembled.

Elen started crying, and Goddard looked teary-eyed himself as he pulled her into a tight embrace.

_Two years of nothing and now she just…wakes up? What the hell is going on?_

The general commotion seemed to have gotten through to Gwaine; he started shifting around in his chair and muttering, "Head hurts…damn apples…where'd Hayden leave that dragon…What?" Everard saw his cousin's eyes flicker open, then close again as Gwaine let out a moan. "Got to stop waking up like this…"

"Had a nice nap, did you, cousin?" Everard asked. 

"No, I was busy looking for Elen…"

_What?_

He didn't have time to voice his question before Gwaine's eyes opened again. "Where's Elen?" 

That got Goddard's attention. Releasing his daughter, he turned to glare at his son. "Gwaine, what exactly did you think you were  _doing_? I thought you were dying for a minute!"

Gwaine still looked rather dazed. It was Elen who spoke next.

"He was trying to talk to me, Father. He brought me back."

The two siblings looked at each other, something indefinable passing between them, and Everard felt as if he was intruding.

Goddard sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I have no idea what you are talking about. All I can say is that I understand you two less and less. And I really wish that your mother was here."

As Norvin moved over to the bed, insisting that as the court physician he should, given the situation, be examining Lady Elen, Everard slipped out of the room.

_I have no idea what just happened, but does it really matter?_

Elen Barclayn was apparently herself again. Everard let out a breath as he realized just what a miracle it was. It wasn't until later that he began to wonder about the Gwaine's newfound magic and what Elen would think of it.

_And what was that about a dragon?_

* * *

The journey north to Bernicia was uneventful, until Haralda got into a fight. To be fair, it wasn't _entirely_ her fault. 

While they were staying in an inn that doubled as a tavern in the northern part of Mercia, a drunken man had apparently laid hands on her and she had retaliated. Or at least, that was how she described it. Merlin and Ela had both been in their rooms at the time and hadn't seen the incident. They'd seen the aftermath…and it hadn't been pretty.

_"Haralda, you did not have to break his wrist. Or lodge a dagger in his shoulder. Or clout him over the head with the side of an axe. You're lucky you didn't kill him."_

_"He started it."_

No matter where the blame lay, Merlin, Ela, and Haralda had been forced to leave even earlier than usual the next morning, not wanting any more trouble. The two women had been at odds ever since. Whatever grudging respect Haralda had seemed to have for her aunt seemed to have disappeared overnight.

_Haralda is not a pleasant person._

"Is there a reason for that?" he asked Ela as they were riding out of Haralda's hearing.

"Is there a reason for Haralda being continually disagreeable?" Ela made a face. "That's just the way she is. My only explanation is that she inherited all of her father's unpleasant traits...Though she is behaving worse than usual."

"Well, hardships of the journey, I suppose. Must've gotten to her."

"Yes, and she's causing half of them," Ela glared in the young woman's direction. 

"So, she's always kind of…difficult?"

"Yes, that's just about sums her up. As I said, she inherited her father's least desirable traits."

Ela sounded so grumpy that Merlin waited for a few minutes before venturing, "I've heard that Harlan is a good king." When Ela looked at him, he added, "Well, it was Aldwyn who told me so…"

Patting her horse's neck absentmindedly, Ela admitted, "He's decent, I suppose. He manages to keep a firm hold on his kingdom without being a complete tyrant. If you don't have to interact with him yourself, he's fine."

"Aldwyn also called him honest…"

"Oh, he's certainly that. There is nothing clandestine about Harlan Barclayn. If he has an opinion on something, he voices it. And he _never shuts up_."

"Likes to hear the sound of his own voice, does he?"

"He must. It's usually about twice as loud as everyone else's."

"Sounds like a recipe for a headache," Merlin said. 

Ela chuckled. "Oh, it is, Merlin. It certainly is."


	15. Chapter 14

"Gwaine, can you come in here for a minute? I want to talk to you."

Sore and muddy from a hard few hours of afternoon training with Everard, Gwaine stopped on his walk to his chambers and turned. Elen was watching him from the door to her rooms. He had a bad feeling that he knew what she wanted to talk about, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

But he was also unable to refuse his sister anything at the moment, so he nodded and entered her rooms. The strained smile she gave him when he did so did not make him feel any better.

Elen's "recovery" over the last few days had been nothing short of spectacular, as everyone said, and no one seemed to want to question it too much. She was still thin, pale, and fragile, but she was having no trouble speaking...though her voice was still rough from disuse...eating...her appetite had all but disappeared in her almost comatose state; now it had returned with a vengeance...or moving around on her own. The last was a particular blessing; she'd had to be assisted with pretty much everything for the last two years. Gwaine knew how much his independent sister must hate the thought of that. She wasn't quite herself, though. She was quieter than she had used to be, and even a bit timid. She still had nightmares. 

Gwaine was worried about something other than her behavior change.

When he'd stopped to think about it, he'd come to the conclusion that now, with Elen back to her old self, his magic would fade and hers would return. It would go back to how it had used to be: her, the sorceress; he, the warrior.  _Almost a pity,_ he had thought.  _I was just getting used to having magic._

His conclusion had been false.

Two years ago, he had felt the first hints of his..or her...magic within days of Elen's lapse into quiet insanity. Now, there was no sign of it getting any weaker. He could still perform the same spells he had been able to before Elen "woke up". He'd even managed to summon small objects a couple times the day before, something he'd been struggling with previously. He also knew that everyone had been treading carefully around Elen, not wishing to upset her over anything in fear of a relapse. Therefore, he didn't believe that anyone had yet informed her of his newfound magic. And he was afraid that she was, by this point, aware that she had none.

As he entered his sister's chambers, he avoided her eyes and wandered over to the fireplace. He could feel her gaze upon him.

"Gwaine, how much longer do you suppose Mother will be?"

Gwaine nearly let out a sigh of relief. "Within a week, I imagine. Assuming that she hasn't run into any major delays." Elen had heard only the "friend in Northumbria" version of where Lady Ela had gone off to. Neither Goddard nor Gwaine was keen on telling her the other.

"Oh, good. I miss her," Elen said.

Gwaine nodded, feeling himself relax. His relief dissipated when his sister continued, her voice quiet but anxious, "And I need her here. I really must speak to her soon…Gwaine, I'm afraid…I don't have magic anymore."

He forced himself to look at her. Her face, framed by wisps of her blonde hair escaping its long braid, showed fear and confusion. And her eyes...

_Well, at least they aren't blank. That's a hundred times worse._

He tried his best to keep his face unreadable, but apparently he failed to hide his guilt. He saw his sister's brown eyes narrow. "Gwaine, what's wrong? Did you…did you suspect already? Tell me!"

Looking down, he said, "We…Mother, Father, and I…we kind of noticed that you didn't seem to…lose control, so we assumed…" He stopped.  _I can't. I can't tell her._ His breathing quickened.

"So, it's not…not exactly recent…" Elen sounded tearful. "I don't understand, Gwaine! How can magic just…disappear? It's not that I can't control it; it's just not there!"

_You can't run way from this._ Gwaine shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Elen, it hasn't disappeared. It's just…moved. I...think. Sort of."

"What?" she choked out, "What on earth…"

He looked at her again, trying to convey his apologies through look alone, since he wasn't sure how to voice them, or if he should even have to.  _Is this even my fault?_

Elen stared at him for a long moment. Then her expression hardened. Incredulously, she whispered, " _You_?"

Something in her tone…a mix of accusatory and disbelieving…struck him like a physical blow. "Yes." It slipped out before he could stop himself, and no explanation followed.  _I should not have to make excuses. I don't fully understand why, but I have magic now instead of her. It's_ not  _my fault. Maybe it's Fate's._

Elen's eyes widened as her back straightened, her nostrils flaring as her expression turned from shock to anger. "You…"

Gwaine was so startled by Elen's sudden change in mood…not once in the last few days had she shown any sign of anger…that he stood still as she lunged over to the table in a corner, seized a book lying there, and hurled at his head.

It was inches away when it veered off course and hit the wall, falling to the floor with a dull thud.

_How could I be so stupid?_

He knew why the book had hit the wall instead of him. He'd made it happen. And he knew that his eyes had just turned gold.

_Damn._

Elen's expression had surpassed anger. Gwaine didn't even know how to read it.

"Get out!" she shouted without any warning. " _Get out_!"

She was still screaming at him when he rushed for the door, still screaming at him when he lunged into the hall and nearly collided with Goddard, still screaming at him as he told their father "Help her; I can't this time." Presumably she was still screaming when he fled the castle.

Part of him was demanding that he return to his sister's side, to keep her from leaving, from slipping back into her shadow-land again. Another part of him was urging him to run, to run away and keep on running.

_No, no, no! You are not running away again!_ He was in the stables, and inside his stallion's stall, before he got himself under control.  _Elen won't appreciate your help right now. That much is certain._

She probably felt betrayed. And why wouldn't she? Magic had always been  _her_  gift, not his. He had never understood her powers, and she had known that. To him, it had always seemed that she rather pitied him and prided herself on having magic.

That had been when they were children. When they had met again, a decade after he had run away, he had been a knight of Camelot, and she a sorceress fleeing the city. He had helped her, but she had felt betrayed then by his choices.

Now _he_ had magic. In her eyes, he definitely didn't deserve it.  _Maybe I don't. It's not…natural._

Only, it was beginning to feel like it was.

Groaning, he sank down into a pile of straw.  _Oh, Mother, I really wish you were here._ He thought that his mother would have a far better grasp on the situation than he or his father did.  _She might be able to get through to Elen as well as I, if not better._

Everard found him a while later. "Your father sent me."

Gwaine looked up. "Elen?"

"She's fine…just…um, rather upset. Mother and Braeden are trying to talk to her, I heard…"

Gwaine snorted. "Good luck to them."  _Elen's never been the confiding type…except maybe with our mother…_

And in that dream when he'd told her come back to them.

_"Gwaine, I'm scared…"_

She had been broken and weak when she said that. He had put her back together, more or less. But that didn't make everything better.

Dropping his head into his hands, he mumbled, "I'm an idiot."

"I wish I could tell you that she'll soon get over it, but…" Everard trailed off.

_Probably thinking about his strained relationship with his own twin._ "You know, I was relieved that she didn't bring up the whole 'knight of Camelot' debacle over the last few days. I guess she has something else to worry about. Something else to hate me for."  _Something that truly wasn't my fault._ Or was it, in some indirect way?  _I just don't know anymore._

"Gwaine, I know this is probably a bad time to ask this, but where is your mother? I know that she hasn't just gone to Northumbria to visit a friend…"

_It's Everard. He's trustworthy._ "She went to Camelot. To fetch Merlin."

Everard's eyes went wide. "All right…that's…so if she's gone to Camelot…Firstly, why did you send  _Haralda_  with her, of all people? And secondly…just  _why_?"

"Hayden found a dragon, and Merlin is a Dragonlord," Gwaine said. "I couldn't go, Father couldn't go, and you couldn't go. Not that I would of asked you to anyway."  _I didn't even consider him…Still, if he hadn't been to Camelot before…_ "Oh, and Hayden couldn't, either. For obvious reasons."

"Okay. So, assuming all went well, Aunt Ela will be returning soon, correct?" Receiving a nod, the prince continued, "With Merlin?"

"Hopefully." Gwaine sighed. "I should go to Hayden's to stay for a while. If they are on their way back here…"

"You want to see your friend again. I understand. When do you suppose you'll leave?"

"Given the events of today…soon. Care to come with me?"

"Maybe. Might be nice to get out of the city for a while."

_Yes, it very well might be. Away from his brother...and away from my sister._

* * *

Ela, Merlin, and Haralda did everything possible to pick up the pace during the latter half of their journey. It paid off; within only a few days they were crossing the border into Bernicia.

_Technically, this is kind of illegal. Aldwyn did ban all of us from Camelot._ Merlin didn't plan to run into Aldwyn, though. _That would be a bad idea_.

Since Haralda's violent scuffle with a drunken villager, only two incidents had marred the relative peacefulness of the journey. A small group of bandits had attacked them. But a single demonstration of power from Merlin...he sent three of them flying backwards, knocking them unconscious on the ground...and the rest had gone scurrying back into the trees.

It had been strangely thrilling to use magic openly in front of other people. Ela and Haralda had been impressed, but unafraid. They even appreciated his quick reaction to the danger. It made the warlock long for a time when he could use his gifts for good openly among his closest friends back in Camelot.

The second incident was less exciting, but more troubling. While passing through Deira, they stopped at a village where they received news of multiple attacks on the coast. The perpetrators were rumored to be from Amata.

According to Ela, a war could very well mean that Bernicia's army would go to Deira's aid. "The alliance between Deira and Bernicia is strong. War for one most likely means war for both," was how she put it.

_War is never a good thing, in any situation._ It was always troubling to see how easily kingdoms fell into conflict.

As they entered Bernicia, Merlin found himself feeling equally nervous and excited. He wasn't sure what to expect with Aithusa, and wasn't certain if he'd be able to help her. Their last parting had not been exactly cordial.  _If she's angry…I don't know what I should do._ On the other hand, he was looking forward to seeing Hayden Wyverndomitor again...and hopefully Gwaine.  _I wonder how strong his magic is…_

"What do  _you_  think of Hayden's wyverns, Lady Ela?"

"To be honest, Merlin, I'm not very closely acquainted with them. I certainly find them interesting, albeit a bit frightening at times. To you, I would think, they pose no challenge."

"Well…not really."

In Merlin's eyes, Bernicia itself was nothing to gape at in the beginning. But as they traveled onward, the forests began to give way to sweeping fells.

"The beginning of the real highlands," Ela said when she saw him eyeing the towering hillsides beyond the trees. "To many outsiders, they're terrifying. Cold and harsh. Home to savages."

"And to you?" Merlin asked.

"To me…" Ela smiled. "I'm used to them."

" _I_  like them," Haralda announced. For once she was riding with the others instead of ahead. "You can  _breathe_  in the highlands." She promptly went back to her stubborn silence. Ela and Merlin exchanged looks.

They arrived at the village near Hayden's home within a few hours. As they were riding through, an old woman called to them from a garden in front of a modest cottage. "Lady Ela! And Princess Haralda!"

"Flyta!" Ela reined in her horse; Merlin and Haralda followed her lead. "How are you?"

"Doing well." The old woman grinned. "Is this the Dragonlord?" She pointed towards Merlin with a gnarled finger.

Merlin startled. "Exactly how many people know about me?" he demanded, panic entering his voice.

"Not many, my dear," Flyta assured him. "I have been helping Hayden care for that young dragon, and he told me. My lips are sealed to others." Turning back to Ela, she said, "Your son is up at Hayden's house now. Arrived two days ago, he did. With one of twin princes."

"Do you know which one?" 

"Ach…I have trouble telling them apart, you know."

"What color were his eyes? Haralda asked.

"The sun made it difficult to tell." Flyta shrugged. "I suppose you will have to see for yourselves. Good day to you all."

"And to you, Flyta." Ela spurred her horse forward. Merlin and Haralda followed suit. 

_One of the twins is at Hayden's? Why not both?_ More importantly, Gwaine was there.  _So I will get to see him._

Merlin felt a sudden stab of worry.  _Has he changed? How might he be different?_ They had been close friends, but two years was a long time in some ways…

As if hearing his thoughts, Ela called, "He'll be happy to see you, Merlin. I'm certain of that."

The afternoon sun glinted down on the three riders as they crested a small hill and came within a short distance of a house that looked like it had been built by young children playing with sticks. Merlin stifled a laugh at the sight of it. What was less amusing and more interesting was the cluster of pens built near it. The gates of said pens were wide open, and several wyverns were lounging around the yard. And Hayden was there, too, petting a slender, pale grey wyvern that was currently curled around his legs.

The wyverns were the first to acknowledge the visitors with a chorus of snorts and growls. Hayden looked up from his pet. "I'd keep the horses back there, if I were you!" he called.

"I'll stay with them until he can put those beasts away." Haralda said as she dismounted. 

Merlin and Ela did the same, handing the reins of their mounts to the younger woman and approaching the house together.

Hayden grinned as they drew near. "Lady Ela," he inclined his head slightly, "and Merlin. It's good to see you again." Untangling himself from the wyvern he had been petting, he strode forward and extended his hand.

Merlin took it, a grin of his own forming on his face. "It's good to see you, too." He glanced at the scaly creatures now crowding around. "I recognize a couple, but the rest…"

"I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to get you introduced to them all." Hayden said. His voice grew more somber as he added, "Aithusa's inside."

Merlin swallowed.  _Looks like I need to deal with it now._

Hayden glanced over at Lady Ela. "Was the journey difficult?"

"No more than expected, though…" Ela began, but got no further as a strangled yell came from behind the house.

"What was that?" shouted Haralda from her post with the horses.

The answer came in the form of a lanky teenager hurtling around the corner of Hayden's cottage, pursued by a young wyvern about the size of a large dog. "Hayden! Get this thing away from me!"

"Damn it, Topaz," Hayden said. A sharp whistle from him and the creature broke off pursuit, coming over to curl around Hayden's feet like pale one had earlier.

The teenager came stumbling to a halt, breathing heavily. His brown eyes flickered over the new arrivals. "Aunt Ela?  _Merlin_? When did you get here? Why is Haralda all the way over there?"

"Just a few moments ago, Everard. Haralda is yards away with the horses to prevent any unfortunate incidents," Ela replied. "Wyvern's not to your liking?"

"Not all of them, Mother, just Topaz. He thinks Everard's his prey. I'm not over-fond of him myself; Topaz, I mean," Gwaine said as he came around the corner of the house. "Oh. Hello, Merlin."


	16. Chapter 15

Everard had changed; Merlin barely recognized him as one of the two young boys rescued from slave traders by the knights two years before. He was much taller, his face much narrower, and his hair had grown longer.

Gwaine, on the other hand, hadn't changed a bit, physically. But Merlin could sense a deeper change. Somehow he seemed more serious, and there was an faint aura about him that had not existed before.

_Magic. It has to be. Though I might be looking too hard._

The warlock ducked around the wyverns and walked forward until he was directly in front of the still-solemn Gwaine. "Hello, Gwaine," He grinned and stuck out his hand. "Guess our last farewell wasn't forever after all."

Gwaine took his hand, then laughed and pulled him into an enthusiastic hug. "Merlin, mate, you don't know how good it is to see you."

As they pulled apart, Merlin said, "Likewise! How have you been?"

"Surviving." Gwaine's smile faded as he looked towards Lady Ela. "Mother."

She stepped forward and embraced him. "Before you ask, the journey was fine."

"Excuse me! I'm still back here waiting for Hayden to put those beasts away! I don't want the horses to run off!" Haralda shouted.

"I'll go deal with her," Everard said. "Hayden, maybe you should…"

"Yes, of course…" Hayden started herding his complaining wyverns towards the pens. Merlin was tempted to use his Dragonlord powers to assist him, but decided that it wasn't necessary. Clearly, Hayden did this all the time. Everard moved off to speak with Haralda, after giving Merlin an embarrassed look, for some reason.

Ela, meanwhile, was busy talking to her son. "Is everything all right in the city? How is Braeden, and Princess Alison? And why isn't Elwin here with his brother?"

"They're fine…Elwin and Everard had a falling out…Mother, Elen's…awake."

The blond woman froze. "What?"

Gwaine smiled again, thought it was less open than before. "She's back, Mother. She's…herself again."

"Are you certain?" At her son's nod, Ela gasped, her blue eyes filling with tears as she embraced him again. "How is that possible? When I left, she was the same as before…"

Gwaine looked sheepish. "It was my fault," he admitted. "It's…complicated. That's not, um, not the worrying part. It's that…Mother, her magic is not returning to her. It's still quite firmly rooted in me, and she knows it."

"Did she know right away  or…"

"She figured out that she didn't have magic anymore, and then I…I told her that I do. She didn't react well at all."

Merlin watched the exchange, concerned by the obvious anxiety in Gwaine's voice.  _So he does truly have magic…_ A part of Merlin wanted to ask Gwaine to demonstrate right then and there, but he held his tongue.

"Have you two talked about it?"

"Haven't tried. I  _know_  she doesn't want to talk to me."

Hayden got his wyverns into their pens, and Haralda and Everard took the horses around to a roomy shed nearby to stable them. The wyvern tamer came back to join the other three people. "I suppose you will be staying the night, my lady?"

Ela looked displeased, but nodded. "I want to see Elen…but it is too late in the day. Yes, we will stay the night. Now, about the dragon…" She glanced at Merlin.

_Oh. Right. Aithusa. The reason I'm here._ "Um…Hayden, you said she was inside the house?"

"Of course. I can show you…"

"No, wait. Let me try something." Gwaine said.

As the others watched curiously, he shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. For a few seconds, he didn't move; then, making a face, he opened his eyes. "She's on her way."

_He just communicated with Aithusa telepathically._ Merlin was impressed.  _Exactly how long has he been actively trying to control his magical skills, again?_

A moment later, the front door of Hayden's cottage creaked open and Aithusa slithered out, limping.

She looked little better than she had in the caves under Ismere, yet the sinking sun brought out the grey tinge in her scales, the scars on her legs and wings. Even more pitiful was the way she shrank back when she saw Merlin. She let out a squeak and turned her icy blue gaze almost accusingly on Gwaine.

Gwaine yelped and clapped a hand to his forehead. "Ow! Aithusa, I told you to be more careful! You know it gives me a headache when you go barging into my head like that! And no, I _didn't_  have a choice! Merlin had to know!"

Aithusa growled. "Yes, he did." Gwaine told her, apparently having heard another telepathic comment. "We've had this conversation before; stop being so stubborn!" Gwaine turned to Merlin, saying, "Honestly, she was easier to handle when she first came here! She was timid then…not so much now. Thinks she can just go throwing any thought she likes into my mind…No, I  _never_ gave you permission!"

"This has been going on for the last two days," Hayden told Ela and Merlin. "I guess Aithusa missed two-way conversation."

Aithusa growled again, the fearsome noise dying off into a whimper as she looked at Merlin again. She shuffled around on the grass of the yard, moving as if to hide behind Gwaine.

"What are you doing?" Gwaine spun to face her. After a moment, he frowned and turned back to Merlin. "She thinks you're angry with her. Please dissuade her of the notion her so she'll stop whimpering…Hey! I am _not_  the rude one!"

Aithusa snarled. "Fine," Gwaine said, sounding more resigned than angry. "But you're worse. Merlin, a little help here…"

Merlin, who had been watching with interest and some amusement, shook himself and stepped closer to the young dragon. "Aithusa, you know that I would never harm you. And I'm not angry with you, I promise." _I'll try to keep it that way_ , Merlin told himself.

The white dragon ducked her head, another pitiful noise escaping her throat.  _I was with Morgana,_ she whispered in his mind.

"I know; I remember. How did you get there? Did she capture you? How did you get those scars?" The questions came tumbling out before Merlin could stop them.

Aithusa looked even more frightened than before. But her first answers came readily.  _I flew away from Kilgharrah…wanted to explore…found her. Morgana._ An image of Morgana laying prone on the ground, blood seeping from her body onto the forest floor, flashed before Merlin's eyes.  _I…I healed her. Wanted to help. She asked me to stay with her. Said she'd take care of me, too._

If dragons could cry, Merlin had a feeling that Aithusa would be shedding more than a few tears.

_She was nice. We traveled together. Then we were captured…_ Aithusa whimpered.  _Locked away…dark…cold…cramped…Morgana…twisted…_

"What's going on?" Haralda and Everard came up, interrupting Merlin and Aithusa's mental conversation. "What the _hell_?" the princess yelled.

The dragon squealed and stumbled back, crashing into the wall of Hayden's cottage and leaving a sizable dent. Over in their pens, the wyverns started snarling.

"Haralda!" Gwaine snapped. "Can't you keep your mouth shut for once? You scared her!"

"Well…" Haralda began, but seemed to think better of it as Everard put his hand on her shoulder. "Sorry," she said in the direction of the young dragon. "I'm hungry. Is there any supper?"

While Hayden went to quiet his wyverns and the others started a conversation about dinner plans, Merlin went over to where Aithusa was crouched. "Are you hurt?"

Aithusa moved her head slowly back and forth.  _No, I'm okay. I want to go inside._

"Alright…I tell you what, we'll talk in the morning. Agreed?" Receiving a sort of nod, Merlin stood and turned to Gwaine, who was watching him. "She says she wants to go inside."

"Go on, Aithusa." They both watched her limp back into the house. "I'll talk to her tomorrow." Merlin said. "I'm tired and she's clearly distressed. It's so different from speaking with Kilgharrah…She's so high-strung. I'm surprised she doesn't react badly to your shouting at her."

Gwaine shrugged. "The first time she and I spoke, she'd just arrived here. She was completely terrified, and I found this 'head-talking' rather painful. We didn't get on too well. Apparently Hayden spent the next couple weeks telling her not too take me so seriously…so she doesn't."

Merlin gave him a quizzical look. "She seems to like you okay. Despite the fact you keep snapping at her."

"Well, what did I just tell you? Besides, I'm no Dragonlord or High Priestess. I couldn't make her do anything against her will or even harm her. Trust me, Merlin. She was much worse when Hayden found her. She even tolerates the wyverns now."

Merlin nodded, once again overcome by the desire to question Gwaine about his magic. But Ela's announcement that they all really ought to eat something prevented him from doing so.

* * *

Gwaine had begun to slip into a doze when he heard a tiny voice whisper in his head,  _Gwaine?_

He groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. It took him a minute longer to focus enough to answer.  _Aithusa, I'm trying to sleep._

_I want to talk._

With another groan, Gwaine hauled himself out of bed and stumbled out of his room. "I might as well start sleeping with the dragon," he muttered. Over the last couple days, communicating with Aithusa had become less painful. That is, it didn't feel like his head was splitting open every time the dragon spoke. But the dragon was seemed increasingly like a demanding child. This wasn't the first time she had woken Gwaine up for the single purpose of "talking".

_Well, I guess she is kind of a child. For a dragon, she's very young, isn't she? Even for a person. And living with Morgana…I doubt she's ever been taught properly, whatever proper teaching is for a dragon._ He didn't know enough about dragons in general.  _That's what Merlin's here for, right?_

"But of course she doesn't want to talk to  _Merlin_ ," Gwaine grumbled as he pushed open the door into the room where Aithusa kept herself. "All right, I'm here. Start talking so I can go back to bed. And please be careful." The more emotional Aithusa got during a conversation, the worse Gwaine's headache tended to be.

The dragon huffed out warm air as Gwaine sat on the floor.  _I'm scared._

"Of Merlin? Don't be. You know he won't hurt you."

_No, he is a Dragonlord. He would not hurt me. It's Kilgharrah. He won't understand. He'll be angry…_ Aithusa shuddered.

Gwaine sighed. "Aithusa, we've been over this before. There's no use worrying about it now. Not until Kilgharrah actually shows up. If he ever does."

_But…_

"Stop it. Look, Merlin's a Dragonlord, right? So he has power not only over you, but Kilgharrah, too. He won't let anything hurt you, not even another dragon. So calm down."

Aithusa let out a soft whimper, but said nothing.

Gwaine watched her for a minute before reaching out and gently rubbing the top of her head.  _Damn, she's just so pitiful…_ "Aithusa, everything will be all right. I promise."  _I shouldn't be promising anything…I'm not good with promises…_

Still, it seemed to calm the young dragon. She huffed again and curled up, resting her head on the floor.  _Okay. Goodnight._

"Oh, so I see I'm being dismissed." Gwaine spoke sarcastically, but smiled as he stood and left the room.

"Dragons…" he said to himself as he walked down the dim hallway. "I think I prefer wyverns, overall… _they_  don't talk…"

Someone else started talking then.  _They don't breathe fire, though. And they're more likely to eat you without a reason for it._

Gwaine nearly yelled, whipping around to look behind him and reaching for his sword...which he didn't have. "What the…" He stopped when he saw it was Merlin. Right. Merlin had magic, so of course he could talk in people's heads. "You too, huh?"

Merlin grinned. "Sorry, but I had to try that."

"Fair enough, mate, but next time…warn me. Now I'm going back to bed." Gwaine paused. "Why were you up, anyway? Call of nature?"

"No, I just…I heard you walk by the room I'm staying in and…I heard you talking to Aithusa."

"Ah, you eavesdropped."

"Well, yes." Merlin's smile faded. "I only heard your half of the conversation. And you're right. Whatever she's done in the past…she knows she's made mistakes. I'd never let her be harmed for it."

"Tell her that when you speak with her tomorrow. She needs to hear it from you." Then he turned and walked back to his room.

_I am_ not  _getting protective of a dragon_ , he told himself as he went. 

* * *

Ela, Haralda, and Everard left the next morning. Ela was in a hurry to see her daughter, Haralda said she wanted a decent bath, and Everard claimed that he was tired of Topaz chasing him.

"It was nice meeting you, Merlin," Ela said as she mounted her horse. "Please give my regards to Gaius when you return to Camelot."

"Of course. And thank you for looking over Aithusa…"

"It was nothing. I only wish I could do more for her."

"Well, I wish I could, too. Anyway, I do hope we meet again."

Ela nodded and turned her attention to Gwaine, who came up beside her mount. "Mother, when you see Elen…"

"I'll talk to her, Gwaine."

Merlin moved away as mother and son continued to speak, not wanting to intrude.

"I'm sorry we didn't have a chance to talk much, Merlin."

Merlin glanced up at the young prince. "Some other time, perhaps."

"Perhaps." Everard's cordial smile faded as he urged his horse down the path.

"Goodbye, Dragonlord!" Haralda called as she followed her brother. Ela went last, waving as she trailed after the two young people.

Gwaine stepped up beside Merlin as they watched the three riders grow smaller and smaller down the road. The warlock sighed and turned to Gwaine. "I really do need to talk to Aithusa."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."

As they walked together back towards the house, Merlin asked, "Where's Hayden? I saw him earlier but now…"

"Either he went to the village for supplies or he went to the nearest river to take a bath." Gwaine chuckled at the look on Merlin's face. "I don't really know. He'll be back soon enough; he didn't take any wyverns. Always a good indicator."

Aithusa stood up when they entered the room where she had slept. She ducked her head towards Merlin, then turned her piteous gaze on Gwaine.

"Oh, no you don't. Merlin's the one you'll be talking to this time." Gwaine leaned against the door.

The dragon looked over at Merlin, who spoke gently, "It's fine, Aithusa. No one is going to hurt you. Now, you said that you healed Morgana…then you were both captured? By whom?"

Aithusa shuddered.  _Cruel-voice man…his soldiers called him…Sarrum._

"Sarrum of Amata?"

"What's that about Amata?" Gwaine said.

_Yes, him._ Aithusa whimpered again, a whirlwind of images…chains, stone walls, and Morgana…passing from her to the Dragonlord.

Merlin winced; Aithusa's pain and fear was terrible to comprehend. "Apparently it was the ruler of Amata who captured Aithusa and Morgana and chained them…kept them there for a couple years…"

"Disgusting," Gwaine said.

"I agree." Merlin turned back to the dragon. "You escaped?"

_Morgana got us out…we ran away, far north…she started to scare me…twisted…_

"Morgana is twisted," Merlin said. "Twisted by fear and hate."

"I suppose Aithusa can sense that," said Gwaine. 

Merlin agreed. "Since they're both creatures of magic…Morgana has used her magic for such horrible purposes…"

_After you saw me in Ismere…I was frightened, more than ever…I left Morgana when she was talking about the other king…about invading Camelot…_ Aithusa's voice sounded shaky.  _I'm sorry…_

"It's fine, Aithusa. It's not your fault Morgana is evil," Merlin replied.  _Now what? I know her story…enough of it, anyway, I can fill in the blanks myself…So what do I do about it? She can't stay here forever._

_Are you going to tell Kilgharrah? He told me to stay close, but…_

"I'll think about it."

When no one broke the following silence for a minute, Gwaine said, "Aithusa, you should go outside for a while. Come on." Aithusa looked displeased, but followed them out of the house just the same.

Hayden returned before long...it turned out he had gone to the village...and he and Gwaine spent the next few hours getting Merlin acquainted with the wyverns.

"So, let me see if I have this straight. Sapphire is the one with the crooked horns, Ruby is the one with big eyes…really, Hayden, they are enormous on her face…"

"You think I don't know that? I grew up with her. Go on; I want to see if you can name the rest."

"Right…Obsidian is almost black, Citrine has orange eyes, Diamond has a skinny head…Emerald is kind of greenish, Amethyst is purplish…Do you have any imagination when it comes to naming them, Hayden?" Merlin joked.

Hayden laughed. "Not really. Neither did my father."

"I see. Peridot is the pale one…you could almost mistake her for Aithusa from a distance…"

"In the dark, maybe."

"Heh. And Topaz is the little one." Merlin peered down at the animal sniffing his legs. "Kind of little."

"They grow fast in the beginning. Just a couple years ago he could sit on my shoulder."

"Wow." Merlin reached through the fence of the pen and grabbed a piece of meat from a bucket on the ground. Straightening, he dropped it into Topaz's waiting mouth. Then he was shoved from behind. "Ow!"

"Emerald!" Hayden shouted. "Stop being so pushy!"

"Here, I'll deal with him," Gwaine said from the other side of the fence. Seizing a piece of meat from the bucket, he tossed it to Emerald, who caught it easily. "Hayden, remember that time when Emerald and Obsidian ate the saddle?"

"I'll never forget it," Hayden said. "See, Merlin, this saddle had gotten wet in some rain earlier, but then it got sunny so it was put out in the yard to dry. Or at least that was the idea. Obsidian found it and thought it was a chew toy. Emerald joined him soon after."

"There wasn't much saddle left by the time we found them," Gwaine added.

Laughing, Merlin asked, "Whose saddle was it?"

"My father's," Gwaine answered. "He had to ride bareback to the city afterwards."

"It was hardly difficult for him," said Hayden. "Your father is…was an excellent horseman."

"Yeah." His amusement clearly fading, Gwaine threw another chunk of meat to Emerald.

Later that afternoon, Merlin suggested that he make dinner. "You don't seem to do much in the way of serious cooking, Hayden."

"I just don't see the point of it. Usually. It's not like I eat meat raw."

"Well, if you could rustle up some meat and vegetables, I could make us some stew."

"I'd take him up on his offer, Hayden," Gwaine told the wyvern tamer. "Merlin's a very good cook."

"I'll use my cooking pan," Merlin said teasingly. "So you don't have to find one of those too."

"Fine, do as you wish. I'll look around for some food fit for humans."

As he went into his house, Merlin turned to Gwaine. "Since it's such a nice evening, why don't we cook out here?"

"Hayden's house scares you, too? Sure, out here is fine. I'll make a fire. Luckily you didn't arrive a week earlier…it actually snowed a few days back. It's warmed up a lot since then."

There was a little-used fire pit in the yard, and while Gwaine went about setting up kindling, Merlin fetched his cooking utensils. As Gwaine set up the wood in the pit, Merlin watched him out of the corner of his eye. "Need some flints?" he asked when the other man seemed about done.

Gwaine hesitated. "No need," he said. " ** _Forbearnan._** " His eyes flashed gold. The wood crackled as the flames sprung to life.

Merlin couldn't help himself; he laughed aloud. "Sorry," he said as Gwaine looked at him. "It's just…"

"I know. It's bizarre."

"Yeah…not in a bad way, just…it's so…not  _you_."

Gwaine smiled, shaking his head. "Trust me, Merlin, no one knows that better than me."


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe I mentioned drama somewhere. Well, here's some family drama. Oh, and a reference to episode 4x08.

The landscape outside the castle window blurred in Elen's vision as her eyes grew unfocused. She'd been staring out the window for a very long time, her mind in turmoil, as it had been for days.

_My brother stole my magic._ _He didn't steal it! That's not even possible, unless he had magic already! Even then…_ _Whatever. He has magic now, and I don't._ _He didn't seem happy about it._ _I don't care. It's_ my _gift._ Not  _his._ _He didn't ask for it._ _He doesn't deserve it._

Her brother, who had run away at the age of sixteen over an damn accident, had stayed away for a decade, and  _had become a knight of Camelot_ for a few of those years, did not deserve to be as powerful as he was now.

The accident in question had been serious…their father had nearly died.  _Still, it was an accident, and Gwaine just fled…like a coward. He even came back a while later...and decided to keep running._ It had not escaped Elen that her father had looked uncomfortable when she had voiced that thought aloud, just after her last, disastrous conversation with her brother.  _And what did my brother do after that? He ran away again._

Of course, this time it was just to Hayden's. He'd taken Everard with him; supposedly the twins weren't getting along well lately.

And that was another thing that was upsetting Elen, as if the loss of her magic and her brother's past and current problems weren't enough. Ever since coming out of her shadowy stupor, she had still felt…lost, isolated. Two years had gone by since she had been clearheaded. The twins were almost grown men. Aldwyn and Braeden had a baby daughter. Hertha had gone from adorable child to gangling near-teen. Some of the courtiers Elen knew well had married, or had children, or had even died. Everyone had moved away from her, somehow. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

_And my brother is home again. With magic._ Though the magic was allegedly a fairly recent development; her father hadn't been clear on that point. Neither had anyone else. As for her brother being back in Bernicia…

When he had come to rescue her from her shadow-land, she had been relieved to know that he was home again. 

She had ridden out on that rainy afternoon all those years ago. She had found her father and brother's horses wandering along the road. She had found their father, more dead than alive. And though she had recognized Gwaine's sword as being the nearest, and coated in blood, she had refused to consider the dark possibility lurking in the background. She had thrown herself into helping her mother, then had joined the search parties sent out to eradicate any more bandits hiding in the woods…and to find her brother.

They hadn't found him, of course. Nor had they found any more bandits. There hadn't been any. All of them had died before Gwaine had fled. It wasn't until her father finally awoke a week later, after King Harlan himself had arrived in a panic, that they all learned the truth for certain. They had suspected; they hadn't wanted to believe it.

Gwaine had stabbed Goddard, nearly killing him.

It had been an accident. Elen knew that, and though she thought her brother had been stupid, she could forgive him for it.

It was the fact that he had run away which infuriated her, the fact that he had been sighted near home afterwards and had still not come home when they needed him most.

_"He didn't even go for help! He just ran!"_

She'd looked for him a few times. Then, one day, a few months after the accident, while wandering around the apple orchard by their family's castle, it had suddenly struck her that she would never find her brother. She'd given up on him.

She'd thrown herself into being a warrior, into helping to protect her uncle's kingdom, as she had little gift for healing. She had thrown herself into magic. She had striven to be untouchable, stronger than iron. Strong enough to never break. For her parents' sake, and her own.

Then she'd found him. Or, rather, he had found her.

First in a dream, which she had hardly understood. Then in a dark alley, in dangerous city, with warning bells clanging in the background, she had come face to face with her twin brother. It had taken her less than a second to recognize him both times. She would've known him anywhere.

She had never, even when she had held hope of finding him, imagined him dressed in Pendragon red and gold.

_Coward. Fool. Traitor._

He'd helped her escape, had saved her life. They hadn't had time for more than a few brief words, not even a full conversation. She had wondered if she would ever see him again as they parted with almost no farewell.

_"The twins…"_

_"I'll get them home. I promise. Now go."_

She'd listened. But not long afterwards, she had been captured. She'd been broken. She didn't remember anything else except shadows and distant voices, until her brother had rescued her.

_My laughing, idiot, traitor, coward brother saved me. From the inside of my own head._

She had not felt quite so lost with him after she had woken up. She did feel as if she didn't know him…he had changed so much…but she felt safe with him. She didn't flinch away when he touched her, like she did with almost everyone else. She had seen no pity in his face, for which she was grateful. He had kept any conversation off of dangerous topics...such as the journey which had destroyed her sanity in the first place...without treating her like something breakable.

Then she'd pushed him away.

_Because he lied to me. Or as good as lied. He should have told me immediately after a woke up that he had magic, and that I didn't. He should have told me._

Everything was his fault. Thinking on it the last few days, she could almost say that everything that had gone so terribly wrong in her life could be traced back to her brother's flight from Bernicia twelve years ago.

_Almost._

And so the inner turmoil continued.

"Elen?"

Hearing her mother's voice made Elen's breath catch in her throat. "Mother?" she cried out, turning around to behold Lady Ela standing in the doorway.

For the next few minutes, she didn't have time to do or think anything else as she hugged her mother, was examined by her mother, and then was hugged again. Ela did not stop talking the entire time. "I was so worried…You're truly awake…It's been so long…You have no idea how much I have worried…Never do that again, Elen, that's an order…You're all right…It's a miracle!"

They were sitting on the edge of Elen's bed, still embracing, when Goddard's voice cut in. "Actually, it was Gwaine with a bottle of sleeping potion. I still haven't forgiven Norvin."

"What's this about sleeping potion?" Ela sat up straight, her eyes narrowed as her husband came into the room and settled on a chair facing the two women.

"Our son did not inform you?"

"All I got out of him was a few mumbled words about it being 'complicated' and 'dreams'," Ela replied, wrapping on arm around Elen's shoulders.

Leaning into her mother, Elen said, "Dream telepathy, Mother. Gwaine got inside my head. I didn't hear about the sleeping potion, though…"

"Probably because Gwaine feels guilty for not telling me what he was planning and Norvin feels guilty for supplying him with the potion." Goddard leaned back in his seat. "Ela, our son had the court physician drug him so that he was unconscious for almost a day. Somehow being deeply asleep allows him to become telepathic. Though only with Elen."

Ela nodded slowly. "You two used to share dreams." 

"Yes." Elen looked down, trying not to let anger overwhelm her yet again.

"And that's not all," Goddard said. "He's pulled this stunt before. In Camelot. Overdosed on sleeping potion he was supposed to be taking for nightmares."

"When was this?" 

"The dream he and Elen shared, remember? The one that led her to Camelot?" Goddard sighed. "Apparently it was a complete accident."

"So he was drugged when that happened," Elen muttered. She remembered the dream; she just hadn't realized what circumstances had been on her brother's end. "Figures."

Ela frowned. "Elen, Gwaine said that…"

"That I've been behaving badly?" Elen snorted. "Can you blame me?"

"He didn't plan it, Elen." "It" likely meant the problem with Elen's magic.

"I don't care. It's mine. Not his." Elen knew she sounded like a child, but right now, she didn't care. "After everything he's done…It's just not right!" 

Ela took her hand, giving it a sympathetic squeeze, but Goddard spoke coolly, "Define 'everything he's done', Elen. I'm afraid I don't understand."

"He…he stabbed you…"

"An accident, Elen. It was my fault as much as it was his."

"He became a knight of Camelot…"

"Partly a victim of circumstance, though it  _was_  idiotic beyond belief." Goddard replied with slight hint of humor. "You haven't had the chance to hear the entire tale yet…It's rather entertaining."

Ela disagreed. "That depends on your definition of entertaining, Goddard."  
Ignoring the aside, Elen swallowed, her jaw clenching before she lost control and shouted, " _He ran away! Like a coward!_ "

Beside her, she felt her mother start in surprise. Shutting her mouth, Elen sent a challenging look at her father, who hadn't stirred.

"Do you know why he ran away, Elen?" Goddard said very softly.

"Because…because he didn't want to own up to what happened! To what he did!" Elen said helplessly, because that was the easy answer. "He even returned and decided he was better off away from us..." 

"Elen, stop."

"Goddard…" Ela started, but Goddard stopped her with a raised hand.

Leaning forward, he said, "Elen, Gwaine thought I was dead. He didn't check to see if I wasn't. He _never_ came back home in secret as the rumors suggested at the time. And he spent the next ten years believing he murdered his own father." He stood up, leaning on his chair for a moment before straightening. "Consider that for a while, then ask yourself if his actions make a little more sense."

"Goddard!" Ela exclaimed, but he was already leaving the room.

_He didn't come back. He thought Father was dead all that time. He thought..._

Elen knew that her mother wanted to talk about magic and whatnot, but she couldn't even bring herself to meet the older woman's gaze. Instead, tears gathered in her eyes as she tried to hold in her sobs. Seeing her predicament, Ela pulled her daughter into a tight embrace and let her cry.

Elen hadn't cried on her mother's shoulder for a very long time. 

_I'm the coward now._

* * *

A stream of fiery words, emitted from the Dragonlord's mouth, trailed into the morning air. The voice was loud, but greater than its sheer volume was the internal pull it would have on the dragon it summoned.

Once he was finished, Merlin took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder to where Gwaine was leaning against a section of the wyvern pen. "That'll raise a few eyebrows down in the village," the Barclayn commented.

"It's served its purpose. Besides, those people should be used to strange things by now. They live next to a wyvern tamer." 

Gwaine chuckled. "Yeah, well, I hope this Great Dragon of yours keeps out of sight. A full-sized dragon…even in Bernicia…would almost certainly mean panic."

"He knows how to be discreet. He usually visits me near Camelot, remember?" Merlin walked over to stand next to his friend. "He won't scare the villagers. That woman Flyta, though…"

"Oh, she probably heard your little 'performance' just now and his cackling over it. She'll might even show up to see the dragon. Speaking of which; do you know when he'll arrive?"

"Sometime this afternoon, I think. Hopefully we can sort out this business with Aithusa by suppertime."

"Hmm. I suppose…you'll be leaving then?"

Merlin looked down. "Yeah."

"Too bad," Gwaine said.

Merlin agreed, though he'd stayed too long already. He didn't want to leave just yet. 

For one thing, while he and Gwaine had done a lot of catching up, they had stayed off the topic of magic. Except for starting the fire the night before, Gwaine hadn't done any spells, unless you counted his regular telepathic conversations with Aithusa.

Merlin was itching to talk about it, but waited a few more minutes to see of Gwaine had anything else to say. The other man, however, didn't speak, only stared at Aithusa, who lay at the edge of the clearing, warming herself in the sun.

Merlin cleared his throat. "So…magic."

Gwaine glanced up at him. "Two years. That's how long I've had it. So basically since my sister lost it."

Merlin wondered briefly if "it" meant Elen's magic or her mind. "Two years…and you didn't tell anyone until a few weeks ago. That's what your mother said."

"Yes, well…"

"He was in denial." Hayden came around the corner of the wyverns' pen and joined them. "That's what he told me."

"Basically. I refused to believe it. Even when I kept breaking things. Eventually, though…"

"So…finally you accepted the fact and started learning spells…" Merlin suddenly laughed out loud. "Come on, Gwaine, you used to be the talkative one! What's like?"

" _You_  have magic, Merlin; you tell me what it's supposed to be like!"

"Yeah, but I've never  _not_  had it, so I don't know how a comparison goes."

"Well…" Gwaine paused. "It's…I guess it's kind of like growing an extra arm you have no idea what to do with and keeps getting in the way."

"An arm with a mind of its own," Hayden put in. When Gwaine glared at him, he said, "I'm just saying what you said to me."

_That sounds a bit worrying, actually…_

Gwaine rolled his eyes and turned back to Merlin. "I'm never going to be very powerful, thankfully, and I'm still having some trouble controlling it…and what the hell am I supposed to do with it, anyway? Besides starting fires…oh, and opening doors; it's extremely useful for that." Behind him, Hayden chuckled.

"Well, those are very practical uses, but…have you considered using it for combat? Like self-defense, maybe? That's what I often do, as you know."

"And how in the bloody hell am I supposed to do that? I'm a swordsman; I can't just replace that with a few spells which I probably won't be able to do anyway…"

"Why not? Theoretically, if you somehow gained your sister's magic, it stands to reason that you would be able to perform many of the spells she could." A memory of fighting Elen in a dark warehouse rose to the forefront of Merlin's mind. "As I recall, she knew a lot of combative spells."

"Don't remind me. I don't have the concentration for any of that." Gwaine sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"And yet I saw you start a fire with it."  _For someone who started working on spells only a few weeks ago, he's doing quite well._ " And you can…open doors?" Merlin frowned, noting Gwaine's unhappy expression. "Did I miss something?"

Hayden explained, "Only his parents, Everard, me…oh, and Flyta, I guess…knew about his magic...until he lost his temper in front of the king's council and opened the doors with magic so he could leave."

"It was an accident," Gwaine mumbled. "Sort of. Uncle Harlan was being annoying."

Merlin suppressed a smile. "According to your mother, he's annoying all the time."

"Exactly. Now, what were we talking about?"

"You using magic in combat," said Hayden. "I think it's a reasonable idea."

"You _raise wyverns_ , Hayden. You _would_ think that."

"Now you're simply being difficult for the sake of it."

"So what if I am?"

"Alright, alright!" Merlin interrupted. "I've got an idea. Since we…or I, at least…shouldn't be going anywhere until Kilgharrah arrives, how about I spend the next few hours helping you with spells, Gwaine?"

"Against you, Merlin, I'm dead already."

"Then have him teach you a shield spell." Hayden said as one of his wyverns...it looked like Obsidian...put its head over the pen fence and began to nuzzle its master's hair.

"That's actually a good idea." Merlin smiled at Gwaine, who made a face in response.

"Fine, Merlin." A glint of humor shone in his eyes as he said, "Have it your way. You'll probably still be able to destroy any shield of mine with nothing more than a fishing rod."

This time, it was Hayden's turn to ask if he'd missed something.


	18. Chapter 17

" ** _Scildan!_** " The magical shield shimmered into shape in front of Gwaine. Grinning, Merlin summoned a small fireball and threw it.

For the first time in about a dozen attempts, Gwaine managed to keep the shield up. The other times, the shield had either failed...forcing Merlin to halt whatever rock or stick he'd thrown with magic before it hit...or Gwaine had just given up and thrown himself out of the way.

The fireball was improvisation. 

"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled as the flames burnt to nothing and the shield dissipated. "That's not fair!"

"It looked like you'd stopped taking it seriously!" the warlock said, still grinning. He felt only a tiny bit guilty. _The spell worked this time, didn't it?_ "I wouldn't have let it hit you."

"I trust you, Merlin, but _seriously_ …" Gwaine shook his hair out of his face, looking both amused and annoyed. "Warn me next time, will you?" He went to sit down, leaning against the cottage wall. 

Merlin followed him. "You okay?" 

"Tired. Using magic might be old stuff to you, but it wears me out."

_He does look rather tired_ , Merlin noted.

Gwaine had ended up showing Merlin what magic he could manage already before they started working on the shield spell Hayden had suggested. _Pity Gwaine only managed it once_. "We can try again later." Merlin said.

"Sure. Just no more fireballs, eh?" Gwaine gave him a good-natured shove, which Merlin returned. Glancing around the yard, Gwaine frowned. "Say…Hayden!"

Hayden emerged from behind the wyvern pens, where he'd claimed he needed to repair some fencing. It had taken him so long, however, than Merlin suspected that he had been watching the spell practice. "What?" 

"Your wyverns are acting strange."

Hayden eyed the creatures, who were prowling about their pens, growling softly amongst each other every few seconds. Topaz, the only one not confined, was following Hayden and letting out whimpering noises. "You're right…They are. I noticed they weren't as noisy as usual for the last few minutes…" Hayden rubbed the top of Topaz's head, watching the rest of his pets. "Oh." Turning to the other men, he said matter-of-factly, "Merlin, I think the dragon's arriving."

"Uh…" Merlin stopped as he sensed Kilgharrah's approaching presence.  _Hayden's right. Or, rather, his wyverns are._

Obviously Aithusa sensed it too, as she chose that moment to come lunging out of the house, which she'd been hiding in all afternoon. Smoke trailed from her nostrils as she squealed. Merlin winced.  _She shouldn't be that terrified of Kilgharrah. I can't imagine him hurting her, so she's probably just worrying herself needlessly. She might be behaving better around me today, but she's still so scared…_ He felt an urge to somehow reassure her.

Gwaine beat him to it. "It's all right, Aithusa." Moving over to the young dragon, he rested his hand on her head. "Merlin won't let anything happen to you, remember?"

"Gwaine's right; nothing's going to happen, Aithusa."  _Well, nothing unpleasant. I hope._

Just a minute later, Kilgharrah swept down from the sky and landed, with no small difficulty, in Hayden's yard. It was rather smaller than the field where Merlin usually met the Great Dragon, a fact which occurred to the warlock a little too late.

The wyverns started shrieking as the golden dragon's tail went slamming into several of the trees surrounding the yard, felling one with a crash. Kilgharrah froze, then moved more cautiously as he turned himself to face Merlin, Gwaine, and Aithusa.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Merlin saw Hayden pushing Topaz into the nearest pen; the dragon only spared the wyverns a glance. Meanwhile, Aithusa cowered and Gwaine stared at the massive creature. 

"Young warlock. I did not expect to be summoned here. No matter," Kilgharrah rumbled, inclining his head before he turned his gaze on Aithusa. She began squealing again, much louder than before, only to fall silent a few seconds later. The dragons stared at each other for a couple minutes, clearly communicating in their minds. Except for a few squeaks from Aithusa and the continued growls of the wyverns in the background, there was silence. Then Kilgharrah roared furiously, his tail lashing out to fell a couple more trees.

Aithusa shrieked in terror, the wyverns stopped making noise and cowered, Gwaine backed up against Hayden's house, and Merlin, used to such displays, grimaced. "Just great! Scare her a little more, will you?" he shouted.

Aithusa whimpered shrilly as Kilgharrah got a little more control over himself. "The witch must pay for this!" He let out another roar, this one not quite so loud but directed at the white dragon.

"Calm down, will you?" Merlin yelled. "Morgana didn't harm Aithusa; it was Sarrum of Amata!"  _Well, she didn't cause the scars and limp, anyway…_

Kilgharrah seemed to hear him, but ignored his words. "You should never have gone off on your own!" he bellowed at Aithusa. "You see what happens when you do not listen to reason?"

Aithusa began protesting with an apparent mix of squeals and telepathy. Merlin was wondering if he could just  _order_  both of them to shut up and get along when Gwaine stepped up next to him. "I didn't realize he was going to be this big," the former knight said. 

"Yeah, well…I kind of forgot how small Hayden's yard is. I mean, it's more than enough for wyverns…"

"But this thing's big enough to swallow a man in one gulp. Doesn't he scare you at all?"

"Not much anymore. I'm a Dragonlord, remember?"

They both realized that Kilgharrah and Aithusa had ceased their conversation and were both looking at them. "And who is this?" Kilgharrah questioned, eyeing Gwaine.

"This is my friend Gwaine," Merlin said. "He, uh, was a knight of Camelot. For a while. He sort of left…Anyway, he lives around here…"

"You have magic." Kilgharrah spoke directly to Gwaine. "Not that powerful, but nothing to be taken lightly."

"Should magic ever be 'taken lightly'?" Gwaine shot back.

Kilgharrah actually chuckled. "Perhaps not. Are you the one who found Aithusa?"

"No, that would be me. My wyverns found her first while I was out hunting with them." Merlin had almost forgotten Hayden was there, too. He was still standing by the wyvern pens, looking a bit uneasy.

The golden dragon snaked his head towards the man. "I see." His yellow eyes rested on the now-silent wyverns before he turned back to Merlin. "Aithusa must come with me, if she is to regain her strength and stay out of the hands of the witch. I fear I failed her before. The unfortunate consequences of my inattention and her...willfulness are clear." Something about him seemed to soften. "But she will be safe now. I will see to it." 

_Well, that was easy._ "I agree," Merlin said firmly. "Aithusa, you're going with him. As soon is possible."

"Which would be now, young warlock," Kilgharrah said.

"Yeah…" Merlin glanced at the now-fallen trees nearby. "That would be good."

In his mind, he asked,  _Kilgharrah, why can't Aithusa speak? I don't think there's a physical reason for it, despite how she's been abused._

_It is clear that she cannot speak aloud because she did not learn with the witch, and now does not believe that she can._

More emotion came through in Kilgharrah's thoughts than had in almost the entire previous conversation. Merlin felt almost sad for him.  _He_ was  _supposed to be watching her…_

"Can she even fly?" Gwaine asked.

Aithusa looked unhappy at this, but nodded to signal that she could. "Not as well as she should be able to," Kilgharrah growled. His ire didn't seem directed at the young dragon this time.

"And you're sure you can help her?" Gwaine seemed to be having second thoughts about the situation.

"Yes, I believe I can. Aithusa has much to relearn about what she is." Kilgharrah said, quietly for a fully-grown dragon. Turning to Merlin, he said, "Young warlock, I sense this is not the best place for me to linger. I expect you will return to Camelot as soon as you can."

"Yeah, that's my plan."

"Good. As always, the young Pendragon needs you by his side. Dark forces are gathering as Albion's time of trial grows ever nearer. The time will soon come for you to truly fulfill your destiny."

_Wouldn't be a meeting with Kilgharrah without some vague warning._ "I know." Then, "Thank you."

The dragon inclined his head towards the warlock again, then began look around, probably looking for the best way to take off with limited space to do so.

Merlin looked to Aithusa. "Go with him, Aithusa. Morgana won't find you. And I'll make sure we see each other again soon. I promise."

The dragon let out a soft cry and ducked her head towards him. She bent her head around and did the same to Hayden, then turned to Gwaine. She whimpered again.

Gwaine smiled and patted her head. "I hope we meet again, Aithusa."

Kilgharrah finally decided how to take off and lunged into the air. After looking at the others one last time, Aithusa took a running start, launching herself into the air and just clearing the trees. The older dragon hovered above for a couple minutes while the youngster circled around, trying to control her wobbly flight. Eventually her wing beats steadied and she followed Kilgharrah away, out of sight.

"We ought've made her fly around some." Hayden spoke as his wyverns started making noise again. "Would have made traveling easier for her now.

"Yeah, I didn't think of it either. Though I must say," Merlin  chuckled, "you impressed me. You didn't even flinch when he stared at you!"

"I did my flinching before he looked at me."

"Is he always that... _abrupt_?" Gwaine interrupted.

"Um…yes. Usually. When he's not talking in really long riddles."

"He seemed to be doing it a bit," Hayden pointed out. "What was all that about 'Albion's time of trial' and 'your destiny'?"

"It's like I told you a while back, Hayden. Merlin sticks with Arthur out of insane loyalty. He did mention something about destiny once."

Merlin decided it was best to explain it. _I can trust these two_. "According to various legends and prophecies, Arthur Pendragon is destined to unite the entire land of Albion, and it's my destiny to protect him."

"Arthur? The worst prat in the history of prats? He's destined to unite Albion?" Gwaine laughed, incredulous. "Does he realize how special he's supposed to be?"

"Not any more than he realizes how special I am."

"So, not at all, then. I see."

One of the larger wyverns lunged for one of the smaller ones, snarling. Hayden hurriedly ducked into the pen and separated them with a few shoves and shouted words. The other two men moved over to the pen to see if their assistance was needed, but Hayden seemed to be handling it. Merlin asked Gwaine, "Are you worried about Aithusa?"

"Of course. Aren't you?"

"Well, it's sort of my job. You, on the other hand…"

"Yeah. I guess I got rather fond of her." He sounded distracted.

Merlin frowned at his friend's obvious preoccupation. "Did she say something worrisome? Before she left?"

"Nothing important," Gwaine replied. "Now if you'll excuse me…call of nature." He walked off. 

Glancing in the other direction, the warlock's gaze fell upon the trees Kilgharrah had toppled just a short while ago. "Uh, Hayden, I'm sorry about the trees," he said as the wyvern tamer half-climbed out of the pen.

"There's plenty around. Anyway, it'll make good firewood." Hayden glanced back at his pets. "I'm more worried about the effect of dragon visitors on my wyverns. It's not like Ruby to lash out like that."

"I suppose seeing a full-grown dragon makes them feel rather insecure," Merlin said.

Hayden laughed at that.

* * *

_Thank you…for being my friend._ She'd whispered that to him, telepathically, just before she flew off.

"So Aithusa considers me a friend," Gwaine muttered. "A bloody  _dragon_  called me her friend." He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe because he realized that if he'd ever thought about it, he wouldn't have expected any dragon to give him so much as a second glance. "Well, Aithusa's not a normal dragon, now is she?" Considering everything she'd been through in her few short years of life..."Give her a few years with that 'Great Dragon' and she'll most likely end up normal enough." Gwaine sighed. He still wasn't entirely certain what to make of the golden dragon who had swooped in, spoken to them all, then left with Aithusa in tow.

_And now Merlin's going to be leaving._

The subject came up over supper.

"I'll be going tomorrow. Now that Aithusa's taken care of…"

"I'm sorry to hear that, Merlin. Topaz, quit begging. You're getting too big for it." Hayden gave the young wyvern a smack as it nosed too close to his bowl. The scaly creature growled and slunk close to the ground. "Stop growing so fast and I'll be able to postpone locking you up with the others during dinner for another year or two," Hayden told him.

Merlin smiled at the wyvern's antics. "I'd love to stay a little longer, but if I'm gone too long Arthur will start looking for me."

Hayden narrowed his eyes. "He must care for you a great deal. I mean, you  _are_  a servant."

"Arthur will never admit it, but he'd do almost anything to protect Merlin," Gwaine commented.  _Merlin's his best friend, but he'll never admit that, either._

"Anyway, I'm planning to visit my mother on my way back to Camelot, so I need to allow a couple days for that. She lives in Ealdor…in Escetir, near Camelot's border."

"Still, if you ever return to Bernicia, you're always welcome here," Hayden said.

"Thanks! It's been fun, to be honest. I guess I'll be a bit lonely on the journey back."

"No, you won't be," Gwaine said, voicing what he'd been thinking for the last few hours. "I'm coming with you."

Hayden's eyebrows went up. Merlin looked startled, and a bit frightened. After a moment under their combined stares, Gwaine smirked. "I'm not a complete idiot, Merlin. I'll go with you to Ealdor and then turn back. I don't fancy getting my head chopped off by His Royal Highness of Destiny anytime soon."

Merlin smiled. "That's great!" Then, more mischievously, he added, "We'll have more time together to work on your shield spells!"

Gwaine pretended to groan in horror. "I was  _hoping_  that you wouldn't suggest that!"

* * *

"Idiot," Elen muttered to herself as she ran a brush over the golden chestnut coat of her new horse. Her aunt and uncle had gifted the mare to her the day before; they had never found the white mount she'd ridden south on that last fateful journey.

Elen didn't feel up to much horseback riding, but felt edgy and had decided to work off some energy by doing some vigorous horse grooming...and some ranting. "I'm an idiot," she told the horse. "A complete an utter fool."  _It's funny how quickly you can come to your senses sometimes. About certain things._

"You know, Gwaine always runs to the stables, too."

She whipped around to find Everard leaning over the door of the stall. "What?"

"Your brother often ends up in the stables when he's upset about something."

Elen turned back to her horse. "And you?"

"Training field. Mostly."

The silence that followed was slightly awkward. Elen had never spoken much to either of the twin princes before she had temporarily lost her mind, and now she didn't know how to interact with either of them at all.

It didn't mean she hadn't watched them. She'd come to the conclusion that Elwin was still the playful, boisterous one, and Everard the quiet one, the thinker. She'd noticed, however, that Elwin seemed louder than he had used to be, and spent most of his time with a raucous band of trainee knights. He and Everard had drifted apart. When she'd mentioned this to Braeden, she'd learned that it was a very recent development indeed.  _Nobody seems to know exactly what happened, though._

Everard had even left the city for a few days. It was the first time Elen could remember him doing so without taking Elwin.  _This time he went with Gwaine._

It was Everard who broke the quiet first. "I heard Mother talking to Aunt Ela. She's worried about you."

Moving to the other side of her mare, Elen said, "Who isn't? Mother's worried, Aldora's worried, Great-Aunt Gytha keeps showing up in my chambers and fussing over me…Oh, and my father is concerned, but also angry because I scared my brother out of the city because I found out that he stole… _ended up with_  my magic."

"You didn't scare him out," Everard said. Under her glare, he backtracked. "Fine, maybe you did. But he had to leave anyway."

"To visit Hayden, right?"

"Yes." Everard looked uncomfortable. "Elen, when your mother left…"

"What does that have to do with it? She went to see an old friend in Northumbria and Haralda went with her." Elen stiffened, looking suspiciously at her guilty-looking cousin. "She didn't go to Northumbria, did she?"

"No, she went to Camelot." Before Elen could respond, Everard took a deep breath and said, "BecauseHaydenfoundadragonandMerlin'saDragonlord."

Elen stared at him blankly. The memory of a scrawny, big-eared young man with black hair and a red neckerchief flashed before her eyes. "Merlin. As in,  _Arthur Pendragon's servant Merlin?_ "

"Well…yes." 

It took all of Elen's self-control not to throw the brush in her hand at the wall. "I'm going to kill my brother."

"What?" Everard appeared alarmed as Elen stormed out of the stall. He followed her out into the castle courtyard. "What are you going to do?"

"First, I'm going to see if Mother will let me ride to Hayden's. Then I'm going out there and giving my  _idiot_  brother and that _Merlin_ a piece of my mind!"

She was furious, and not for the first time in the last week. Yet this fury was much more familiar and a lot less dangerous.

_Merlin stabbed me, but I_ did _try to kill him first. And a Dragonlord? I've got to hear about that. As for Gwaine…so he has my magic, and he obviously isn't comfortable with it. Whatever, I'm still going to hit him. Several times. I'll forgive him after that._ As she practically ran up the stairs into the castle with Everard on her heels, she shouted at no one in particular, "Why am I the last person to hear about everything?"

She knew why. But it felt good to shout, just the same.


	19. Chapter 18

After leaving Hayden's at dawn, Merlin and Gwaine traveled south at a fast pace, speaking little. But every once in a while, one of them would initiate a short conversation.

"Merlin?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you suppose Kilgharrah is going to go after old Sarrum?"

Merlin, riding ahead of Gwaine on a narrow stretch of path, didn't answer right away. He must have thought about an answer for too long, because Gwaine spoke again, "Or did he even hear you?"

"Oh, I'm sure he heard me." Merlin glanced over his shoulder at the other man. "But I don't think he will go after Sarrum."

"Why not? It looked like he was ready to hunt down Morgana when he thought that she was the one who hurt Aithusa. And he's a dragon. Shouldn't be too hard for him to swoop in and burn Amata's tyrant to a crisp."

"That's just it. He's a _dragon_. He doesn't think like that." Merlin took a deep breath. "I was the one who freed him from the caves beneath Camelot, and instead of simply taking revenge on Uther…who probably deserved it…for his imprisonment, he attacked the city night after night, not caring who died in the process. Individual lives don't mean the same to him as they do to us."

"Unless that individual's another dragon or has a hefty destiny attached, eh?"

"Pretty much. Anyway, he wouldn't be careful while killing Sarrum, if he did, and there almost certainly would be innocent casualties. He knows I wouldn't approve, and could order him to not do it, so I don't think he will."

"I see. Almost a pity, though. Thought that maybe he could get rid of Sarrum before Amata gets into a war with Deira."

They lapsed back into silence, until Merlin said, "Are you going to get in trouble?"

"I left a note with Hayden; he'll make sure it gets to the city." 

"Yeah, but will they…your family…be worried?"

"Of course they will. At least I'd have told them I was leaving the kingdom this time." He sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but there was a note of bitterness to his voice. Merlin decided not to comment on it.

However, that evening, while they sat by a small campfire as twilight deepened, he did ask, "Have you been…all right, Gwaine?"

"Haven't I told you I've been fine?"

"You said so, kind of." Merlin narrowed his eyes.  _Yes, he's definitely avoiding my gaze._ "Come on, Gwaine. You've told me plenty about what you and your family has been up to, but you haven't told me anything about how you feel about it."

Gwaine looked at him, donning a slight smirk. "Arthur would be calling you a girl if he were here."

"Yeah, he would; but don't change the subject."

"If you insist." Gwaine's smile faded. "I've…I've adjusted to Bernicia again. Besides Elen…it's been all right, for me. Except for the bit about magic…that kind of put a damper on everything. For a while I hardly dared think for fear I'd do something…regrettable with it."

"I understand. But…with your family? Your friends, from before…?"

"Once my relatives stopped shouting at me…or crying over me, depending on which ones…I got along with them just fine." Gwaine picked up a stray stick and poked at the fire. "Hertha…the youngest cousin, the one I hadn't known about…she was scared of me for a while. She got over it soon enough. As for other people…Hayden's been exactly the same as always, which I appreciate. Everyone else…I guess they either think I'm a traitor or they simply don't know what to make of me anymore. Plenty of the younger nobles resent me."

Frowning, Merlin asked, "Why? If magic is legal in Bernicia, it can't be that…"

"No, it's not magic. If anything, it's been better since everyone found out that I had magic. They're too scared of what I could do to be unpleasant." Gwaine scoffed. "Before…as I said, they're the ones who think I'm a traitor. The commoners…they could care less where I've been and what I've done, for the most part. Some of the nobles…they don't trust me. There's this one…Lord Fairley…he looks a bit like Arthur. A couple times I've actually forgotten where I am and called him that. And some of the knights…it was common for me to slip up for about year."

Silence fell over them both.  _It's not been easy for him_ , Merlin thought.  _He might've returned home, but his sister lost her mind, his family clearly was difficult to handle, his fellow nobles…maybe even former friends…alienated him..._ Ofcourse it had been difficult. He had been gone for ten years and had returned much changed. Nothing about the situation could've been that easy.

Considering this, Merlin said, "But you're glad you returned?"

"Well..." Gwaine looked up from the flames. "Yes. Bernicia's always been home, no matter where I've been. And…" He paused. "It's been nice…having a family again. Having parents." He stopped again. "My father…I can't forget what I did to him. Never will. But he hasn't treated me any different because of it."

Another pause. "I wish I'd gotten a chance to meet him as well as your mother," Merlin said.

"Maybe you will. Another time."

"Yeah. I hope so."

A longer pause.

"Arthur would be gagging by now."

Merlin chuckled. "I'm glad he's not here, then."

"Me too. We'd both…wait, no, just me, I guess…be dead."

"Yeah."

The comment was made in jest, but there was truth behind it.

_I wish it wasn't so._

* * *

It took hours, pacing her chambers and discussing every possibility for good or ill, for Elen to convince her parents to let her go to Hayden's. Well, that's what it took to convince her mother; her father excused himself from the room partway through the discussion, using fatigue as an excuse. It was reasonable enough, but Elen found out later that he spent the next hour in the hallway outside her rooms, talking to Everard.

"What have you even been talking  _about_?" Elen demanded when she and her mother came out of the room and found them sitting on a bench, within earshot of Elen's door. 

"Wyverns and dragons, mostly," Everard replied. "I'd never met a dragon before I saw Aithusa."

_Right, Aithusa. The dragon at Hayden's._

"And we discussed the fact that Everard may have been a bit hasty in informing you of…recent developments." Goddard shared a look with his wife. "Are you letting her leave, Ela?"

"Didn't you hear?" Ela said dryly. "Or are you going to continue pretending that you and Everard didn't eavesdrop at all?"

"We may have missed the end of your…discussion." 

"I'm going," Elen said impatiently. "I'm strong enough, as long as I don't overdo it."

"I'm going with her." Ela gave her daughter a cautioning look. "She is going nowhere alone right now."

Goddard seemed bothered by this. "But you just got back." 

"It's not far, Father," Elen snapped. "We'd be back soon."

No sooner did the words leave her mouth that she realized how insensitive they were. "Sorry. I'm just…I just want to see my brother."  _And that Dragonlord._

"Why don't I go with her?" Everard offered. "I've got nothing else to do."

"You just returned here as well." Goddard said.   
"I wasn't gone as long as Aunt Ela. I can handle another short trip."

Elen glanced at her mother and saw something akin to relief along with the worry on the older woman's face.  _She's hardly young anymore; her journey to Camelot must've taken more out of her than she cares to admit._ "Mother? Do you trust Everard enough to escort me?" She smiled a little to show that she wasn't being entirely serious.

"Of course. Thank you, Everard, that will make things much easier."

"I agree." Goddard stood and moved over to his wife, wrapping his arm around her waist. "But you're not leaving until the morning, I hope?"

"No…can't travel in the dark," Elen admitted. 

Her parents glanced at each other again. "It is late. We should all be getting to bed," said Ela. 

Before Everard slunk off to his rooms, Elen asked him, "Why did you tell me about where Mother went in the first place?"

"I have no idea. Maybe I'm just too nice of a person."

_Well, he does have an amiable personality,_ Elen thought to herself the next day, as they rode together along the road in the direction of Hayden's dwelling.  _And he's a decent conversationalist._ Which was a good thing; his words about the Bernician court and other neutral topics served as a welcome distraction. When they left the city, she had insisted that they travel at a gallop and was regretting that decision within the hour. Even though they had soon slowed their pace, she hurt all over from the unaccustomed exercise.

She tried to hide it, but Everard noticed. Pausing in a story about a recent rivalry between two knights over the affections a noble lady, he reined in his horse, slowing it from a trot to a walk. Elen did the same with her mount as her cousin said, "Might as well give the horses a bit of a break." Then he went on with his story.

_He's tactful. Far more than Gwaine was when…_ "Everard, you're sixteen now, aren't you?"  _The same age Gwaine was when he ran away._

"Yes. Almost seventeen, actually." 

"Yes, of course." She let a moment pass before succumbing to curiosity and asking, "Why are you and Elwin avoiding each other, exactly? Everyone says it's a recent problem."

Everard took his time answering. "Twins don't have to get along."

"I of all people know that already. But you're being evasive."

"You and Gwaine are very different people, Elen. Same goes for Elwin and I. It's just taken us longer to realize that."

He changed the subject then. Elen went along with it, still considering his words.

A couple hours later, their arrival at Hayden's home and startled the wyvern tamer, who was feeding his pets when the two travelers rode up. "Everard! You're back already! And Lady Elen? What are you doing here?"

"We won't be inconveniencing you for long, Hayden." Elen felt very tired and unsteady, so she allowed Everard to help her off her horse. Once her feet where on the ground, she asked, "Where is my brother? And that servant?"  _Merlin,_ she reminded herself.  _Hayden has most likely befriended him by now._

"I'm sorry, milady," Hayden said. "They left this morning."

Elen stared at him for all of five seconds. " _Left_?" she gasped. "Left? To go _where_?"

"Merlin was going to visit his mother, in Escetir. Gwaine offered to go with him. Wait a moment…" The young man ran over to his house and went inside, reappearing a minute later with two pieces of paper folded in his hand. "He left these; one's for your parents, I believe. He mentioned that the other was for you." Hayden held them out to her.

Elen snatched them both, glancing over the wrinkled paper. Tucking the one addressed to Prince Goddard and Lady Ela into her belt, she examined the other, taking in the  _Lady Elen Barclayn_ written in scrawling letters across it.  _My brother always did have atrocious handwriting_ , she thought as she unfolded the note. The writing was just as messy inside.

_Elen,_

_I know you don't want to talk to me anytime soon, and I understand why. Maybe when I get back. Shouldn't be more than a couple weeks. Hopefully less. I'll see you then._

The next few words seemed to be written with more care.

_Take care of yourself._

_Your brother Gwaine_

Elen's legs suddenly gave out; Everard caught her before she hit the ground. "She overexerted herself on the way here," the prince said to Hayden. "We should get her inside…"

Gaining control over her limbs, Elen pushed her cousin off. "I can walk inside," she insisted through gritted teeth. "I'm fine."

"I'll find a room for you," Hayden said.

Elen didn't miss how he exchanged looks with Everard, who said, "I'll take care of the horses."

She managed to walk to the house with Hayden close behind her. Once inside, she turned on him and yelled, "How can he be such an  _idiot_?"

"He's accompanying a friend home. Doesn't seem too idiotic to me."

Ignoring Hayden's words, she raged on, "Is he trying to get himself killed? Was running off once not enough?"  _I thought I was over this already…_ "And with that servant,  _Merlin_!" She spat out the name with so much vitriol that it almost made her wince herself.

"He's not going to Camelot. And Merlin is his friend."

"I wanted to _talk_ to him!" Elen shrieked. "I came here to _make peace_ with him…both of them…and they go running off…"

"Merlin couldn't stay any longer."

" _Why are you so damn calm_?" 

"Would you rather I shouted back at you?"

For the second time in a few minutes, she simply stared at Hayden. "Were you going to show me to a room?" she asked after a minute, her voice softer and hoarse. 

"Yes." He led her to a door off the front hallway. "This room should be sufficient," he said. "I'm sure Everard will bring in your pack soon."

"Thank you," Elen remembered to say as he turned to leave.

"You're welcome, milady."

"Oh, just call me Elen. We've known each other long enough." 

"If you insist, Elen."

As he walked away, Elen glared after him.  _If I had his temperament, dealing with my brother would be so much easier._

But that would have to wait for a while. Gwaine was out of her reach for now, and she was exhausted.

* * *

Morning had come to the patch of woodland.. It was turning out to be a clear, warm day already, but there were other matters on the minds of the two travelers.

"Let me get this straight. You're so powerful you can command the very earth to do whatever you want? Just like that?"

"Scared, Gwaine?" Merlin glanced up from where he was crouched, filling a couple water flasks from a narrow stream. A sheepish grin spread across the his face. "Yes, I can. I don't do it much, though."

"Why not?"

Merlin considered the question. On the surface, it was an innocent one. But the answer was rather complex. "Power can corrupt, Gwaine. Look what happened to Morgana." Merlin hesitated. "Though I use my magic for good…I'm afraid that I might let it get out of hand someday." He rarely admitted that fear even to himself.

"Oh." Gwaine fell silent as Merlin finished filling the water flasks. "Merlin?" he asked as Merlin stood up.

"Yeah?"

"If power…in this case, magic…corrupts, and that's what changed Morgana…what about me?"

Merlin gaped at Gwaine for a moment. "What the…Gwaine, you know what Morgana's like. And you're nothing like her. I mean…" Getting his thoughts in order, Merlin tried again. "Look, when Morgana discovered her magic and allied with Morgause, she was living in fear for her life. And when she learned she was Uther's daughter, she lusted for power…It all worked together to make her what she is now. Your situation is completely different. It's not like you're having uncontrollable urges to…to set people on fire just because you can. Are you?"

Gwaine laughed. "No, Merlin, actually I'm in constant guard against doing that very thing. Though I did set Elwin's bed curtains on fire…He wouldn't get out of bed, see, and Aldwyn had ordered me to wake him up... But you're right."

Merlin smiled at his friend. "You'll be fine, Gwaine. We should work on that shield spell again soon…"

"Oh, _joy_." Then, more seriously, "Merlin? For what it's worth…you're nothing like Morgana, either. I guess you already know that."

"Yeah, well…it doesn't mean that I don't need the occasional reminder." He smiled again, tightly, then turned and headed back through the trees to where they'd left their horses.

It seemed like every time he saw Morgana, he was reminded of what he could become, having the power that he did. While plenty of people…his mentor Gaius and the Great Dragon included…had told him that he was nothing like her, that he would never become corrupt and evil himself, the possibility remained, lurking in the back of his mind.

_How many times have I wished I could use my power openly? Terrify my enemies with my gifts? Make everything easier with my magic? How many times have a grown frustrated, even angry, with Arthur for his constant rejection of my kind?_ But didn't he feel just as angry when he saw others abusing their powers?

_Merlin, get down._

Merlin had dropped onto the forest floor before he realized that Gwaine hadn't spoken aloud. But he did when he crawled up next to him. "Look."

In his preoccupied state, Merlin had somehow managed to miss the group of six men currently going over the camp the two friends had only vacated a few minutes before.

Merlin looked over at Gwaine, who met his gaze.  _We can take them,_ the warlock said telepathically.

Gwaine's expression hardened.  _You're probably right_ _. Count of three?_

_Agreed._


	20. Chapter 19

Bandits never stopped to ask questions. And, predictably, four of these six went for Gwaine instead of Merlin.

_Because he's got a sword. No one would suspect that I'm potentially far more dangerous._ Still, Merlin allowed the two bandits lunging towards him to get close before he threw them both to the ground with a simple spell. He didn't want to kill them, just get them to run away.

But this batch were even more idiotic than the regular variety. They just got back up and came at him again. Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he said, " ** _Ahatian!_** "

Over to his right, he heard blades clashing and one of the other bandits give a yell. The two rogues before him also shrieked as their swords heated up in their hands. They staggered back as their weapons clattered to the ground. "You want to try that again?" Merlin asked as they prepared to bolt.

The horses were snorting and rearing a short ways off… _Thank goodness they're tied up…_ as the pair of bandits turned and ran. One of their companions, who had been fighting Gwaine, followed them, blood dripping from a gash on his arm. Certain that they were out of the fight, Merlin turned to see how Gwaine was handling the other three.

His eyes landed on the four men still locked in combat just in time to hear Gwaine shout what sounded like a mangled version of the shield spell and see something flash very brightly. The horses made even more noise than before. The warlock shut his eyes and turned away as four separate yells cut off suddenly.

Then he looked back, to find two of the bandits out cold on the forest floor and the last one hightailing off through the trees. Gwaine was standing near the unconscious bandits, sword hanging limp in his hand and a bemused expression on his face.

When the silence had stretched on for a while, Merlin asked tentatively, "Gwaine? You all right?"

Shaking his head, the other man looked at him. "It…uh…Merlin, I have no idea what I just did."

"Well, Gwaine…that makes two of us."

* * *

"I don't understand Elen."

Hayden, busying himself with the wyverns' breakfast, sensed that he wasn't expected to respond to Everard's statement just yet and chose not to say anything. 

"I barely knew her before she…before she lost her mind. She was always very…very distant."

_Yes, she was._ Her father and Hayden's had been friends, but Hayden had seen far more of Gwaine than Elen growing up.  _She had other things on her mind. Magic, I suppose. She was a warrior. Always fighting to be better._

"We've had a couple conversations since she became…well, normal again…I just don't get it, really. She finds out her brother ended up with her magic…then she wants to murder him…oh, and Merlin nearly killed her…and then she wants to…how did she phrase it? 'Make peace' with them? I don't fully understand her reasoning…She scares me a bit, honestly."

"She loves her brother, but she's angry," Hayden commented. "She can't help that."

"Well, no, but…" Everard sighed. "It's not just that. Back to her being 'distant'…Did she think that magic made her better than everyone else or something?"

"Maybe."

"It's not like she doesn't care about other people; she  _does_. But she's…unreasonable."

"Most people are."

"...Thanks."

Hayden looked up. "You're one of the better ones."

"Oh. I guess that's a compliment?"

"Take it however you like."

A minute of near-silence passed as Hayden finished feeding his pets. As he came out of the pen, Everard said, "It just bothers me, is all."

"That your cousin is unreasonable?"

"I don't…It's just that…What really bothers me is that our family is always at odds."

_It certainly seems that way. Elen and Gwaine are just the best example of it right now. Except for…_ "Spoken to your twin lately?"

Everard looked away. Hayden didn't press him any further.

The prince had mentioned earlier his plans to leave with Elen that morning; there was no reason for them to stay. But those plans were discarded when Elen woke up so stiff that she could barely move.

"I  _knew_  that much riding was a bad idea. I think Aunt Ela did too…"

"Shut up, Everard."

"So I suppose you two are staying another day."  _My, I do seem to be having a lot of visitors…_

"Yeah, if it's not inconvenient…"

"Not at all."  _Everard's good company. I don't know about Lady Elen at the moment…_

"We're  _not_ staying! I'm…Ow! I'm fine!"

"Elen, it took you about ten times longer than it should've for you to just sit up. That's not 'fine'."

"I'm sure you'll be well enough to leave tomorrow, milady."  _Though perhaps I should ask Flyta to come up and see if she can do anything to help…maybe they can leave sooner, since Elen seems so eager to…_

"Thank you for your concern,  _Wyverndomitor._ "

Hayden heard Everard mutter, "They're worse than Aldwyn and Elwin…"

_I rather wish Gwaine were still here._

Elen pulled herself to her feet, managing not to cry out but scowling all the while. "I swear, when I find my brother I'm going to…"

_On second thought…_

* * *

They ended up leaving the unconscious bandits at the camp when they left.

"I mangled that spell a bit, eh?" _Such an understatement._

"No kidding. Shield spells aren't meant to knock people out."

"I kind of noticed, Merlin." 

They'd ridden a little further when the warlock asked, "Why'd you try it, anyway?"

"Have you ever fought three men at once before?"

"Yeah, lots of times."

" _Without_  using magic at all?"

"Uh…no."

"I have. It's not easy. I was just trying to make it a little easier this time."

A pause. "Well, it worked, right?"

"I guess it did."

Though Gwaine wished it had worked the way it was  _supposed_  to.

_Magic is never simple, is it?_

It was a while later when Merlin asked, "Gwaine, what happened to that pendant you had? I just realized that you're not wearing it anymore."

_Oh, that thing._ Gwaine recalled the bauble he'd stolen from his cousin years and years ago and which had caused him some trouble when it came to true identities. "Gave it back to Aldwyn. It was his, after all. But I think he lost it."  _And I can't remember what I did with that ring…Hey, I guess I really am an idiot._ He snorted.

Merlin didn't seem to realize his real reason for being amused and said, "That's a bit rude. Him losing it, I mean."

Gwaine came back to their conversation. "How so? As I said, it was his. If he lost it, he lost it. It's his problem, not mine."

"Hmm." Merlin didn't speak for a few moments. "Remember how you took the ones that belonged to the twins, too?"

"What else was I supposed to do? Let Arthur and the rest find them and start putting too many pieces together? I had no idea what story Everard was going to come up with."

"True. He was really vague, actually. I mean, I surprised Arthur didn't ask any more questions than he did."

"Since when has Arthur been the best thinker?"  _Okay, maybe I'm being a little harsh…_ Then Gwaine remembered his last encounter with the Pendragon.  _No, I'm being too kind._ Merlin seemed unperturbed.  _Naturally; he says similar things…and worse…about Arthur on a daily basis and never means it._

A while later, "Gwaine?"

"Yeah?"

"If Morgana attacks us or something…maybe you should leave the magical fighting part to me?"

Stifling a laugh, Gwaine replied, "I was going to anyway. If we should run into something as dangerous as a psychotic witch, I will leave  _all_ the fighting to you."

"Just checking." Merlin grinned. "I'm still teaching you to knock out people properly, though."

"Wonderful. Another spell for me to mess up." 

* * *

Morgana was impatient. This was nothing new, of course.

But this was a "I'm close to killing someone for no reason" level of impatience.

_Alvarr is late. Very late._

He had gone to speak with the ruler of Amata, leaving her and a most of his followers in a camp near the Mercian border. He'd been gone for over almost two weeks, which was far longer than they had thought it would take.

_And Aithusa's still missing._

There had been no rumor, no sightings of the young dragon. Morgana had tried reaching out with her mind, limited as she was on that front, and had failed.

_Every day wasted is another that I go without being in my rightful place on the throne of Camelot._

It annoyed her, infuriated her, left a bitter taste in her mouth every time she considered it. She had been so close so many times now…Morgause had, years ago, tried to teach her the value of patience. And Morgana had tried to learn. But after everything…

_I should not have to wait this long for Alvarr. We made our plan carefully; all he had to do was present it to Sarrum!_

Perhaps the rogue sorcerer's typical charm had not worked as well as expected.

Growling curses under her breath, Morgana stopped pacing around her tent and ducked outside. Those of Alvarr's followers who were also outside cast her looks of curiosity and concern. The smoke of the three or four campfires drifted into the cooling air. It was late evening, and the last High Priestess was surpassing impatience and entering the realm of fury. 

_Alvarr, if you fail me, you will pay. As all those who fail me do._

When he arrived the next morning, it took all of her fragile self-control not to punish him somehow for his tardiness...that, and the pleased expression on his face.

"My Lady…Sarrum has agreed to our plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bad news is...we're halfway through this story, just nineteen chapters and one epilogue to go. The good news is...a lot of stuff happens in the second half. ;)


	21. Chapter 20

Flyta had been more than happy to give Elen something to help with the stiffness and soreness, but she recommended that the young woman remain at Hayden's for at least another night. Grudgingly, Elen conceded. Then she spent the rest of the day moping about the house and yard, watching Hayden and Everard's activities from a distance. Both of them gave up trying to converse with her after a couple tries.

"I really wish Gwaine hadn't gone off with Merlin. Then she wouldn't be glowering at us," Everard said as he gathered up an armful of hewn logs to move closer to the house. He and Hayden were chopping up and clearing away the trees Kilgharrah had toppled; Hayden hadn't had the urge to deal with them before. 

"He wasn't about to let his friend leave alone. He's loyal that way." Hayden grabbed an armful of wood as well and led the way the house.

"Yeah, and he wanted magic lessons from someone who wasn't his mother."

"On the contrary, he seemed reluctant."

"Right, he's still not comfortable with magic, is he?"

"Not with his. Anyway, there's no denying that he actually  _needs_  magic lessons. For some things."

"I thought he was teaching himself."

"Barely."

Later that afternoon, saying that he felt restless, the young prince went for a ride, leaving Hayden alone with Elen. She ignored him at first. He stayed out of her way. But while he was feeding the wyverns that evening, she approached to watch.  _She doesn't seem inclined to talk, though._ Hayden kept his mouth shut.

"What are their names?" she asked abruptly a couple minutes later.

Hayden eyed her, trying to read her expression.  _Curiosity, yes, but not much. Maybe she just needs a distraction._

So he proceeded to introduce her to the wyverns one by one. Most of them seemed to find her tolerable. Topaz had charmed his way out of the pen again...not for the first time that day...but he stayed away from her.

"He's a skittish little thing, isn't he?" said Elen. 

"Depends on the person. You saw him with Everard earlier…Wouldn't leave him alone. They're often indecisive when they're young."

"And playful."

"That too." He let a few moments pass before saying, "You're not going after your brother."

"No point. He's got a head start. It's…it's just not worth it."

"But you did want to see him."

"Yes."

"And Merlin?"

Elen snorted and turned away, brushing back a few strands of yellow hair that had come loose from her braid. "Yes. He's a Dragonlord, possibly the last…why wouldn't I want to meet him?"

"He nearly killed you." 

Elen's expression stiffened as she looked back at him. After several long seconds, she said, "I tried to kill him first. And I was trying to kill his master before that." She frowned. "I would really like to understand his loyalty to the Pendragon…"

Hayden didn't respond, though he knew the answer to Elen's implied question.  _Not my secret to tell._ She started talking again anyway, changing the subject to Everard and Elwin's idiotic behavior.  _As if I haven't heard about it enough yet..._ It might have been his imagination, but Elen seemed relieved to talk. It seemed a bit odd at first, then again… _She hasn't exactly done any talking for two years, so…_

When she and Everard left the next morning, as she was preparing to mount her horse, she said, "You should visit the city sometime."

"Perhaps." He didn't like towns or cities much. _Too many people_. "Who would watch my wyverns?"

"Didn't you have a second cousin or something who'd do that?"

"Ryle." Everard said. "He's…he's dead, Elen."

Elen started, eyes widening as she stared at Hayden. "Oh. I didn't know that. Um…I'm sorry." She sounded unused to saying the words.

Hayden shrugged. "He went out fighting," he said vaguely.

Everard gave him a sharp look as Elen pulled herself onto her horse's saddle, grimacing but not making a sound. "Well…thank you for allowing us to stay." she said.

"Anytime." Hayden glanced at Everard. "Next visit, you're going to convince Topaz to like you. Without him chasing you like a rabbit."

"Yeah, we'll see how that works!"  
Elen had one last thing to say as well. "If my brother should show up here before he goes to the city…tell him I'm going to knock his teeth out. I won't need magic to do it."

Hayden didn't even answer that. Elen looked on the verge of saying something else, but shook herself and turned her mount away down to road. Her cousin followed her.

Watching them grow smaller as they moved further away, Hayden's mind wandered.  _Ryle._ He hadn't thought of his distant cousin for a while now. They hadn't been that close, yet…his death had been a loss. And not just because he no longer had someone semi-reliable to baby-sit his pets.

Hayden's gaze fastened on Lady Elen's distant figure.  _He died for_ you _, Elen Barclayn._

* * *

"We're almost there," Merlin said.

It had been several uneventful days since their run-in with bandits. Merlin had managed to teach Gwaine a few more offensive and defensive spells, but the Barclayn had flatly refused to try and knock Merlin out.

_"Come on, Gwaine, I could block it easily!"_

_"Yeah, then we wouldn't know if I could do it properly, now could we?"_

"How much longer?" Gwaine said in response to Merlin's statement.

"An hour, maybe less. I know these woods well." Merlin smiled nostalgically. "My friend Will and I used to explore…"

_How does he do it?_ Gwaine wondered. He knew about Will, how the had been Merlin's best friend for years, and how he had died saving Arthur and defending Merlin's secret to the last.  _How does Merlin handle losing people constantly? Another reason to be angry with Arthur._ _It always seems to be his fault. At least indirectly._

"You didn't get to come with us the last time we went to Ealdor…that's fine, considering it wasn't a particularly long nor pleasant visit…Agravaine came crashing in…"

"Right, I was stuck in Camelot's dungeons at the time."  _And "entertaining" Morgana and her men._ Gwaine shuddered at the memory as they rode on.

The village looked to Gwaine like any other he'd ever seen. But glancing at Merlin, he knew that the cluster of rundown huts meant a great deal to the warlock. It was a given, really.  _No place like home, huh?_

Most of the people were apparently out in the fields, given the semi-clear weather and the time of year, so they were only met with a few curious glances from some children as they rode up to a house on the outskirts of the village.  _That's odd…why are there three horses in the back? They don't look like a farmer's team…_

As they were dismounting, a plainly dressed woman with blue eyes and brown hair mostly hidden under a headscarf came out of the house. "Merlin!" she called, her tone please and yet…scared?

_Maybe she has unpleasant memories of the last time her son visited…not that it was his fault, but maybe she expects trouble…_

"Mother!" Merlin smiled widely and embraced his mother tightly. "Sorry I didn't give you any warning…"

His mother pulled away, cupping his face in her hands. "Merlin, are you all right? Where have you been?"

Gwaine saw his friend's smile fade.  _Something's not right here…_

"Mother, what are you talking about? I just came to visit you! Has something happened?" Now Merlin sounded worried.

The warlock was focused on his mother and she was focused on him, so Gwaine was the only one to see three knights of Camelot walk out of the house. He didn't recognize the young, curly-haired one. But he knew the other two.

_Sir Leon and Sir Elyan._ "Oh, shit."


	22. Chapter 21

Merlin heard Gwaine swear a moment before he glimpsed the knights over his mother's shoulder.  _Leon, Elyan, and Mordred? What are they doing here? Is Arthur with them?_

Seeing where he was looking, Hunith said, "These three arrived earlier today, Merlin. They were worried…they said you went to visit me a couple weeks ago…" Her voice trailed off into the tense silence. Merlin winced.  _She must've been worried when they told her how long I'd been gone…_

For their part, the knights looked dumbfounded. Or rather Leon and Elyan did; Mordred just appeared curious. Whatever relief the first two may have felt when they saw Merlin was clearly pushed aside by their shock at the sight of Gwaine. Glancing back, Merlin noted that said man seemed poised to leap onto his mount and flee.  _Somehow I don't think that's a good idea…_

" _Gwaine_? What are you doing here?" Elyan blurted out.

"I could ask the same of you." Gwaine's hand moved to his sword hilt.

Elyan noticed and took a defensive stance. "Arthur sent us to check on Merlin."

The warlock resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  _So when I'm actually doing fine is when he decides to send people after me. Damned inconvenient._

"So this is Sir Gwaine?" Mordred said.

Gwaine's eyes narrowed. " _Former_  Sir Gwaine. And you are?"

"This is Sir Mordred," Leon said stiffly. "Merlin, you went…you went to visit _Gwaine_ instead of your _mother_?"

Hunith made a disparaging noise as Merlin defended himself. "Yes, but I'm here now, aren't I? I was going to visit both of them and now I have!" Looking down at his mother, he added, "Mother, I'm sorry about all this…"

"It's all right, Merlin. I can see you have some things to work out with your friends." Giving him a reassuring smile, Hunith said, "You're all welcome to stay the night, if you wish. I should go check on supper." But as she moved back into the house, she gave Merlin a look which clearly said  _Deal with this. Now._

_Obviously, she doesn't want blood all over her doorstep. Well, I don't either._ _At least they're not attacking each other yet…_

Instead, they were having a silent standoff, with Leon and Elyan glaring at Gwaine and Gwaine glaring right back. Mordred just looked on, until Merlin interrupted with, "Um…I can explain…"

Gwaine glanced at him.  _I hope this explanation of yours does not include dragons…_

_Do you really have so little faith in me, Gwaine? Of course not; now be quiet._

The Barclayn rolled his eyes, prompting confused looks from the knights.

Merlin ignored this. "Yes, I went to see Gwaine. Why? Because he's my friend." Deciding to play on the older knights' guilt, he added, "As he was yours."

"But Merlin…" Leon began, "the king…"

"Is a cowardly braggart, but that doesn't make  _Merlin_  any less my friend."

Merlin let out an exasperated noise.  _Great way to make things worse, Gwaine. Insult the king in front of his most loyal knight and his brother-in-law._

_You're giving me a headache._

_You're being ridiculous._

"Are you insulting the king?" Mordred asked.

"Bit slow on the uptake, aren't you?" 

" _Gwaine!_ " Merlin yelled.

"What?"

The look Merlin was getting from his friend was positively mutinous. "Are you being difficult on purpose?"

"Probably." 

Elyan broke in. "All right, Merlin, so you wanted to see Gwaine...that's understandable…" An regretful look passed briefly over the knight's face. "But Arthur…he won't react well to this, Merlin."

"Then don't tell him you saw me," Gwaine said.

"How can we not, Gwaine?" Leon demanded. "Arthur banished you from Camelot…"

Gwaine glanced upward and said, "Well, my cousin banned him from Bernicia first, so I can't really blame him."

"Wait," Mordred spoke up. They all looked at him as he said, "King Arthur banished him from  _Camelot_?"

"Yes, that's the problem!" said Elyan. "And now he's here…"

"In _Ealdor_ ," Mordred interrupted. "Which is in Escetir, not Camelot. Technically, he has as much right as we to be here."

Elyan and Leon's embarrassed expressions would have made Merlin laugh if he wasn't wearing a similar one.  _Why didn't I think of that already…I guess I was distracted._ He heard Gwaine stifling a laugh behind him. "So…Maybe we can forget about telling Arthur…"

"Merlin, I know Gwaine was…is your friend, but the king…" Leon appeared rather lost.

_Torn between duty and friendship, perhaps?_ There  _should_  be nothing to worry about, anyway. Mordred had been correct; Arthur Pendragon didn't  _have_  to be involved in any way. Only, Merlin was the king's servant and he was traveling with someone who had all but been declared an enemy of Camelot, so maybe Arthur should hear about it.  _Maybe I should figure out a spell to wipe the knights' memories…_ Not that Merlin wanted to do that in the least; they were his friends, too.

"You know, we all just go inside and be civil to each other for one night," Gwaine suggested. "I'm too tired to deal with this today."

It sounded like a good idea to Merlin, also weary from travel, but he was surprised when Leon and Elyan agreed to it.

* * *

Hunith was a lovely person, who remained admirably above the pervading tension her guests brought and who, once properly introduced to Gwaine, thanked him with a smile for looking out for her son when he could. She also proved a gracious hostess, despite the uncomfortable air that persisted afternoon and evening.

_She deserves her own damn kingdom for putting up with us all._

As for himself, Gwaine managed the tension until after dinner, whereupon he fled outside to "check the horses". He was loitering at the back of the house, looking up at the sky and wondering what he had managed to get himself into, when someone said, "You've been out here a while."

Gwaine spun around. "Ah, Sir Mordred," he said with a forced grin. "Nice evening, isn't it?"

"It is." The young man didn't say anything else, merely turning his gaze to the sky as well.

Over the next couple minutes, Gwaine glanced at Mordred several times. He was curious about this person, for a particular reason. "Mind if I ask you a question?" 

Mordred turned his icy blue eyes upon him. "That depends on the question."

"Naturally." Gwaine hesitated a moment before saying, "Merlin's told me lots of stories about escapades that happened in Camelot before I arrived there…I could've sworn he mentioned something about a druid boy named Mordred and how he helped him escape Uther's men."

"You wish to know if I was that boy."

"Were you?"

"Yes."

"And Arthur took you on as a knight?" Receiving only a curt nod in response, Gwaine ventured, "Arthur withdrew my knighthood partly because he found out my sister had magic."

"Not all druids have magic."

"Do you?"

Mordred took a deep breath and turned away. "The king does not ask me about it, so I say nothing."

"Hell of a way to live." Gwaine paused. "I suppose Merlin has it worse."  
Mordred quickly looked back at him. "You know of his magic?"

"Yes. I've known since I first met him."

"As did I. I sensed him, his magic, all those years ago, called out to him for help."

"I'm afraid I didn't find out that easily. I just caught him throwing plates. Without using his hands."

Mordred actually smiled at that. "Why was he throwing plates?"

"Tavern brawl. They tend to happen when I'm around."  _Rather, they used to._ "We should probably go back inside. It's getting chilly out here."

* * *

Partly due to the small size of the cottage and his occupation with keeping Gwaine and the knights from murdering each other, Merlin didn't have a chance to talk with his mother until after dinner. Leon had said he was going to get some rest and had flopped down on his bedroll in a far corner. Elyan remained sitting up, whittling and talking with Mordred. Gwaine had said he was checking on the horses and had left.

_You're not running off, are you?_

_I'm tempted to, but I won't, I swear._

As Merlin was helping Hunith with the dishes, they could finally have a conversation. "I really am sorry, Mother...I had to make up some story…"

"When the knights showed up and said that you were supposed to be here…I was worried about you. At least you're safe." She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "But don't do that again. Or have Gaius write me and tell me what you're planning."

Merlin groaned. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Chuckling, Hunith returned to the dishes. "I would've worried about you anyway. I always do."

"You know I can take care of myself."

"Of course, but…" Hunith glanced around as Mordred stood and went out. "It's a mother's job to worry, Merlin."

"I know, I know. But I just couldn't tell Arthur that I was going to see Gwaine…"

"You mentioned him in your letters, how he'd left Camelot because of his family."

"And because Arthur's a prat."

"Merlin!" Hunith shook her head. "It was only natural that you would want to visit your friend."

"Yeah, well…" Merlin lowered his voice. "There was an urgent reason."

"And what might that be?"

"Not with the knights in here. I could tell you tomorrow," Merlin said. "Suffice to say it involves Gwaine's mother, his friend who tames wyverns, and a dragon."

Hunith gave him a sharp look. "Now you _have_ to tell me. But it can wait for now."

* * *

The next morning started off fine, given the circumstances...until Mordred walked in on Merlin, Elyan, and Leon finishing their breakfast and said, "Gwaine's leaving."

"What?" Merlin jumped up. "I thought he'd just left to pee!"

"He's giving us the slip." Leon said, moving to the door. Merlin and Elyan followed him outside.

Outside, Gwaine was checking his horse's saddle. Noticing his audience, he sighed. "Merlin, I haven't gotten my pack yet. I was just getting ready to leave, not running off without saying goodbye."

"Then why haven't you said anything about leaving?" Elyan demanded.

"For that matter, why are you leaving so suddenly at all?" Leon added.

_Huh, I was going to ask him the same things._ Merlin didn't want his friend running off just yet.

Gwaine scoffed. "Look, Leon, I don't know yet…and I suspect you don't either…if you are actually going to run back to Arthur and tell him where I am and what Merlin's been up to. I know Arthur's not usually that unreasonable, but considering the last time I spoke to him…I'm just trying to get a head start, so to speak. Besides, I live in  _Bernicia_ , which is a hell of a long way away, and I have people who will be worried if I don't show up soon." He pushed past them towards the cottage, stopping on the doorstep to say to Hunith, "Thank you for your hospitality, ma'am. It was good to meet you."

Hunith smiled and nodded as he ducked inside the house, reemerging a moment later with his pack. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," he said to the knights, "I have a long road ahead of me." Turning to Merlin and putting a hand on the warlock's shoulder, he said, "Thank you, Merlin. For everything. If you run into any trouble here…you know where to find me."

As Gwaine swung onto his horse, Merlin reached out mentally and asked,  _Why are you doing this?_

_Because I'm too close to Camelot for comfort, as illustrated by the three knights standing here._ Aloud, Gwaine said, "Take care of yourself, Merlin."

"Likewise."

And with that, Gwaine was off, his mount galloping towards the forest beyond the village.

Merlin stared after him, slightly bewildered at the rapid turn of events, and Elyan said, "Leon, what  _are_  we going to do?"

Merlin turned, looking from Elyan's nervous expression to Leon's unhappy one. Swallowing, he ventured, "You could say Gwaine came here…you don't have to tell Arthur that I went to Bernicia to see him…so you don't have to lie completely…"

Mordred said, "If Merlin only went out of friendship, surely that does not warrant putting him at risk of punishment..."

"Not that Arthur would punish him anyway," Elyan said. "But maybe, to be on the safe side…It wasn't like Gwaine was plotting against Camelot…He wasn't, was he, Merlin?"

"Of course not." Merlin managed a grateful smile. "I won't forget this…"

"Arthur may be our king, but you're our friend, too," Elyan said. "And as you pointed out, Gwaine was also at one time."

Mordred glanced at the knight who had not spoken yet. "What do you say, Sir Leon?"

Leon replied, sounding frustrated, "I don't like it. But as long as Gwaine  _wasn't_ plotting...Merlin was only visiting a friend…"

Merlin stifled a sigh of relief.  _This might work out just fine…_ He grinned at his mother, who gave him a stern look as the knights began to argue out the details.


	23. Chapter 22

The peaceful silence of the moorland night was broken by the clanging of warning bells. Elen stumbled out into the hall to find her mother already there. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." Ela glanced at Goddard as he came out of their room, leaning heavily on the door frame.

_He's having a bad night,_ Elen realized. "I'll go see what the commotion is, Father," she said. "Wait here." She didn't wait for his annoyed look before starting off down the hall.

Making her way to the council chamber, she found it in chaos. Guards ran in and out, nobles argued amongst each other, and of course King Harlan was in the middle of it, bellowing out jumbled orders. Given the level of noise in the room, it was difficult to hear even him.

Elen remained in a corner as the commotion dissipated and the king took control, ending the last interfering conversations with, " _Everyone shut the hell up and listen!_ "

All eyes turned to Harlan and he said, "There has been a raid on a northern village by one of the wild clans. We all know they won't stop at just one attack."

Elen became aware that Everard had come to stand beside her. "This means a skirmish," he said.

She nodded. Such clashes between Bernician soldiers and northern clans weren't uncommon.

The king explained that he had given orders for a group of regular soldiers to assemble, but he required a company of knights as well. "We ride as soon is there enough light to see the ground!" he finished. As the group of nobles and knights in the room broke up and began to leave, the king spotted the prince by the door with his cousin. "You're coming to, Everard. Is there something you need, Elen?"

"No, I just came to see what the uproar was." In the distance, the warning bells stopped clanging. "Was it really necessary to use those?"  _They've woken the whole city, no doubt._

"We always do," the king said cheerfully. 

_Bit stupid really, as it's unlikely any of the wild north men would come charging into the city itself._ Elen decided it wasn't worth the discussion. "I suppose I'd better…" Then she stopped.

She'd always used to go, as backup. She'd circle around the back of the enemy ranks while they were distracted by the soldiers and force them into quick surrender by surprise use of magic. She couldn't do everything at once, and sometimes the strategy didn't work as it was supposed to. But she did make a difference. She was an asset.

Without magic, however, her combat skills were very limited.

Harlan had already swept out, muttering about knights and horses, but Everard remained, watching her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I think I'll go tell Father what happened then I'll go back to bed."

"Lucky you. I have to get ready to leave."

Elen gave a forced laugh and returned to her chambers, stopping by her parents' on the way to inform them of the upcoming skirmish with the clansmen. Then she returned to her room, not to sleep, but to think.

_I'm useless. Absolutely useless. Without magic…_ She'd never bothered to learn how to use regular weapons. She'd depended on magic for everything. _That was a mistake. Pity I figured that out far too late._ "Damn idiot that I am." 

Everyone surely knew, but wouldn't admit it. Her father and mother would deny it, her other relatives would simply drown her in pity.  _I don't want pity. I can pity myself. But I am pathetic, aren't I?_ She didn't know what to do with herself anymore, and neither did anyone else. So they felt sorry for her: the former sorceress whose only distinction now was being related to the king.

_Hayden didn't feel sorry for me._ He had barely reacted to her at all. And while that had infuriated her, it had also been...refreshing. He was blunt yet fair with his words. She appreciated that.

Elen toyed with the idea of writing to him, then realized that he probably couldn't read.  _Better not to risk it. That would be…embarrassing._

Perhaps she should visit him again. Gwaine would probably stop by the wyvern tamer's before he went on to the city, whenever he returned to Bernicia. She could talk to her brother then without the interference of relatives, namely, their parents. Besides, she had nothing better to do with herself.

_I think I'll wait until after the wild clan is dealt with. Less to be worried about that way._

* * *

After he left Ealdor, Gwaine wasn't thinking about much except getting far away from Camelot as fast as possible. Running into the knights hadn't been a pleasant experience. Concern for Merlin aside, it had been just plain awkward and painful.  _Sir Mordred was interesting,...a druid knight who knows Merlin's secret…but the others…_ They'd looked at him like he was liable to go insane at any moment.  _Good thing I got have my magic under control…it could've been much worse…_

It had hurt, seeing how uneasy they were with him. They had been his friends.  _Now I'm a traitor. They'll never trust me again._ He half expected them to pursue him. Over a day later, he was still on edge.

Consequently, his mind was so occupied with what lay behind him that he barely noticed what was ahead.

Then he galloped his horse straight into a camp that was currently being dismantled by its residents, mostly raggedly-clad men and a few women.

Gwaine reined in his mount so fast that the horse reared in protest. Trying to calm him, Gwaine saw several men in the clearing picking up swords and spears. One man, dressed better than most of the others, shouted an unfamiliar spell that caused a dagger to spring from his belt and hurtle towards Gwaine.

" ** _Scildan!_** " Gwaine shouted.

It worked this time. The blade clanged uselessly against the shimmering shield of energy and fell to the ground. Most of those who had been advancing upon the intruder stopped, turning to the well-dressed man as if awaiting orders. One of them didn't, instead charging forward with a yell.

His shield having already vanished, Gwaine yelled, " _ **Ástríce!**_ _"_ The spell sent his attacker flying against a tree.

The leader stepped forward then, eyes flashing in anger. Gwaine automatically reached for his sword, knowing it would be of no use as the other man lifted one hand and began to cast another spell.

"Wait!" someone shouted from behind him.

_I know that voice…damn, damn, damn…_

Gwaine turned to see Morgana Pendragon approaching with a very young woman trailing her. The witch's face, which he had last seen sneering at him from the outside of a dark cell, was now a mask of incredulity. "You?" she said blankly. " _You_  have magic? This isn't possible!" 

_Of all the encampments I could've stumbled across, I stumble across Morgana's. Of course. This will probably get me killed. I'd be dead already if I didn't have magic now…_

"Who is he, milady?" the other woman asked, peering curiously at Gwaine with deep blue eyes.

"Quiet, Kara," Morgana snapped.

Forcing himself to not succumb to panic, Gwaine inclined his head towards Morgana and said, "My Lady. Fancy seeing you here."

"Sir Gwaine?" Morgana said, frowning. "I don't understand this." 

_Ah, I've flustered her. If it was any other woman, I'd be flattered._  "It's a funny story, really." _Just keep talking, maybe she'll postpone killing you…_ "You see, sometime after your last little stint as Camelot's temporary ruler, through a long chain of complicated circumstances involving slave traders and long journeys and an insane warlord…hey, I think you would've gotten along with him famously; pity he's dead…your dear brother found out that my sister was a sorceress and decided to kick me out of the knighthood. I haven't been in Camelot for a while now. So you needn't address me as 'sir' anymore." He gave her a sardonic grin and flipped his hair out of his face.

"My Lady, who is this man exactly? A knight of Camelot?" The well-dressed man moved closer.

"This, Alvarr, is Gwaine, a…a former knight of Camelot, apparently. I made his acquaintance the last time I had control over Camelot. He was one of Arthur's favored knights. A bit of a rogue, but strong in battle." Morgana's eyes narrowed, her tone becoming more cajoling than threatening as she spoke to Gwaine. "If your own sister had magic, why did you serve him at all?"

Gwaine became uncomfortably aware of the number of eyes upon him. "Well…I don't think it's really any of your business, milady, no offense intended. Let's just say I hadn't been exactly on speaking terms with my relatives for a while."

"I see. Relatives can be bothersome."

_Oh dear lord, she's smiling at me now…that wicked little smile that means she thinks she's in control…_

The witch stepped closer to Gwaine's horse, saying, "It must've been hard anyway, serving in the court of Arthur Pendragon with your…talents hidden."

_No way in hell I'm clarifying anything more for her. She doesn't need to know._  "They're not well developed even as of yet."

"Of course not. You've probably had little chance to practice." She was right next to his horse now, looking up at him with that smile still on her face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Alvarr watching suspiciously. "But you show potential. Arthur casting you out…so unreasonable, given your skill as a knight."

_Arthur may be an arrogant idiot, Morgana, but you're even worse…I've seen what you've done…I've had a taste of what your reign would look like…_

"And, of course, you have knowledge of Camelot itself…useful knowledge…you could be a true asset, Gwaine…" Her voice lowered to a purr as she looked up at him. "Join us, and Arthur will pay for his crimes many times over…"

_How many times has she played this routine to gain the help of those once wronged by the other Pendragons? It seems almost tired…_ Yet he could see why it would be tempting. _To those who don't know Morgana's darker side, or who don't care_ …Under difference circumstances, he might be tempted himself.

So far, Gwaine had been avoiding direct eye contact with the witch. Now, he took a deep breath and looked directly down into her icy grey-green eyes.

_Uther's eyes._ _She's Uther's daughter. And I never stopped hating him for what he'd done._

Uther had been beyond redemption. Arthur, for all his faults, still had a chance to redeem himself. If he could be shown the error of his ways, he might actually change. Morgana would not. She was beyond that point.

_That's the difference. That's why Merlin still has hope._ Gwaine heard himself saying, "You're a monster, Morgana. Like your father."

Her smile shattered, her expression becoming one of rage as she stepped back.

Gwaine didn't give her a chance to open her mouth. " _ **Forbearnan!**_ " he shouted, setting her black dress alight.

She screamed, occupied with extinguishing the blaze. Spinning around, Gwaine cast the spell again, this time igniting the leaves on the forest floor in front of Alvarr, stopping the man from casting his own spell. Drawing his sword, Gwaine slashed at a couple men who charged him as he spurred his horse into a gallop.

While they charged into the trees, shouts erupting behind him, he felt something… _some kind of spell, no doubt_ …hit him, nearly jolting him off his horse. As it was, it left a horrid tingling feeling throughout his body and threatened to send him spiraling into unconsciousness. He shook himself.  _Can't fall off now…_ This lot would almost certainly pursue him.

"Faster, Burke," he whispered to his mount. "Just keep going…"

* * *

The battle was worse than they'd anticipated; the clan's warriors were more numerous and better organized than what they'd planned for. The Bernicians were outnumbered. While their superior armor and weaponry, and their horses, still gave them an advantage, it was a bloodier battle than most clan skirmishes.

It was the first full-fledged battle Everard had ever been in. It exhilarated him. And the exhilaration terrified him almost more than his enemies did.

The battle raged on the ruins of a burned village, the bodies of clansmen and Bernicians falling on the unburied bodies of the former villagers. The sheer intensity of it all made Everard happy that Elwin hadn't been brought along.

As for himself, he was relieved that he was able to keep a clear head despite the situation.

He had started out battling alongside Aldwyn and the king, but had been driven away from them with a small group of Bernician foot soldiers. Though he fought his best, many of them kept falling to the clan warriors.

When his horse was injured, he dismounted and let it flee, staying to fight on foot.

When they were backed into a corner, he led the pitiful line of offense against their adversaries.

When a spear pierced him, he refused to fall. He kept fighting.

When their enemies seemed to melt away, fleeing the battlefield, he couldn't stop his sudden collapse.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the cloudy sky above him.

The last thing he heard was Aldwyn shouting in the distance.

Miles away, his twin brother screamed his name.


	24. Chapter 23

"You did  _what_?"

Merlin winced at the king's shout, very glad for the moral support of the two knights standing behind him. They had just given Arthur a brief outline of events…the modified version, that is. Leon, Elyan, Mordred, and Merlin had decided to say that the manservant had secretly contacted Gwaine and asked him to come to Ealdor for a visit.

Even this modified version wasn't going down well.

"You went to visit your mother and…and _him_?" Arthur paused, clearly trying to control himself. "Merlin, I banished him from Camelot…"

"And we weren't in Camelot!" Merlin said. "Arthur, he's still my friend!"

"Yes, but…" Arthur stopped, his jaw working as if he was chewing back more angry words. Rounding on his knights, he demanded, "If he was still there when you arrived, why didn't you _do_ something about it?"

"Arthur, he wasn't in Camelot territory," Leon said patiently. "He left almost immediately after we arrived. I believe that he just wanted to visit a friend."

"And what could we have done?" Elyan looked nervous, but continued, "Arthur, he's part of the Bernician royal family. If we'd so much as threatened him…"

"I get that, I just…" Arthur halted and let out a groan. "You know what, I don't care. He's gone now, anyway. You may leave. All of you."

The knights bowed and walked out. Merlin made to follow them, but was halted by Arthur asking, "You did get to visit with your mother, too?"

"Yes, I did."

"Good. Merlin?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"You do something like that again…" Merlin braced himself for the threat of some kind of punishment more serious than the stocks, yet was surprised when Arthur only shook his head and said, "Just…just go, Merlin. You can resume your duties tomorrow."

Swallowing with some difficulty, Merlin bowed slightly to his king and left.

* * *

"How could you be so  _idiotic_ , Merlin?"

Merlin sighed. He'd had sort of admonishment from his mentor before, though it hadn't been forthcoming for a while now. "I told you, Gaius, I had no idea we'd arrive in Ealdor to find three knights there!"

"You should have been more cautious, that close to Camelot." Gauis frowned. "And the knights helped you lie to the king about where you've really been?"

"Yes…I honestly don't think they were as angry with Gwaine as Arthur was…" Merlin sighed again. "Well, I dealt with Aithusa, I helped Gwaine with his magic…he's really much better with it than I expected, Gaius…and I got to see my mother, too. All in all, I think it was a fairly successful trip. And now I just want dinner and bed."

Gaius gave him a grudging smile. "Supper's almost ready. I suppose that you do deserve it after such a long journey,  _despite_  your idiocy."

They were midway through the meal when the physician asked, "Merlin, how powerful is Gwaine?"

Considering this, Merlin said, "Not very. But given the fact he's only had magic for two years…It's impressive."

"He was already a strong warrior. I suppose magic will give him even more of an advantage over any adversaries he may face."

"I guess." Merlin grinned. "Though he…See, we did run into some bandits...just a few…Anyway, Gwaine tried to use a shield spell, messed up at bit and, uh, ended up knocking two of the bandits out."

"With a  _shield spell_?" At Merlin's nod, Gaius's eyebrow rose even higher than normal. "In that case, let's hope he gets back home as soon as possible. At least there his mother can keep an eye on him."

* * *

A sensation of warmth on his skin woke Everard from a dreamless slumber. Opening his eyes, he realized that a few rays of sun were coming in through the nearest window, shining on his face. The warmth was comforting, but the light sent a jolt of pain through his skull. He moaned softly, shutting his eyes and turning his head the other way as he became aware of his aching body and a dull throbbing on his left side.

_What happened?_ Everything felt disjointed. He couldn't remember how he ended up here, in what must be his bedroom in the royal castle.  _I thought we rode out to fight some clansmen…_

Then he heard footsteps approaching. "Everard? Can you hear me?" He felt a gentle hand come to rest on his forehead. Forcing his eyes open again, he saw Lady Ela bending over him. She looked very tired, yet she smiled at him. "Good, you're finally awake."

Blinking to clear his blurry gaze, Everard managed to whisper, "What…happened? How long…" He tried to sit up, only to have his aunt push him down gently but firmly.

"Stay down; you're in no condition to move much yet. As for what happened…You were injured in battle. As for how long you've been unconscious…three days, more or less. You gave us all quite a scare." Ela smoothed the blanket over him. "A spear in the side is no joke, young man."

Everything came rushing back to Everard then.  _Outnumbered by clansmen…pushed into a corner…pain everywhere…everything going black…_ His breath hitched and he lurched upright, only to cry out in pain and sink back down again.

"I told you not to move!" Ela seemed more concerned that annoyed, however. " _Stay still_. I'm going to get your parents." She exited, leaving him alone with his whirling thoughts.

_I was in a battle…I killed people…I've killed before, just not that many…Ow, my side hurts...How many men did we lose? Did we win?_ The answer to the last question he assumed to be a yes, otherwise he would probably not be alive at all.

The door opened again and the king and queen entered, followed closely by Ela.

"Everard!" Aldora hastened to his side, taking his hands in hers. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

"I'm okay, Mother." Everard tried to give her a reassuring smile.

She didn't answer as Harlan came to stand beside her. Watching his father, Everard realized that the usually bombastic man seemed subdued, his expression hard to read. "Father?" 

Clearing his throat, Harlan said, "You fought well." He reached out and gave his son's shoulder a tight squeeze.

It hurt somewhat, but Everard didn't care. "Thank you, Father," he said.

Harlan just grunted and ambled over to the fireplace. Addressing Ela, he asked, "How long until he can get out of bed?"

"We'll see. A couple days, perhaps. If he…" Ela's words were interrupted by the door opening again, this time admitting Aldwyn, Hertha, and Elwin, who remained in a corner while the other two approached the bed.

Hertha bounded up first, energetic as usual, but a warning look from her mother made her calm down a bit. "The knights are all saying you nearly won the battle by yourself!"

Her voice was a bit loud for Everard's aching head. "That's an exaggeration, Hertha." Looking beyond her to Aldwyn, he said, "So we did win."

"They realized that they were being beaten despite their superior numbers and fled. That lot are probably beyond the northern border by now." Aldwyn grinned, a little crookedly. "Still, we lost many good men…We thought we'd lost you, brother."

"But now he's a real warrior!" Hertha said with a bright smile. 

Everard smiled back, then winced. He ached all over, worse than ever. "I'm tired…" he mumbled.

"And that's enough visitors for now," Ela stated, ignoring any protests. "Out, all of you…Aldora, go get some rest before I end up treating you for exhaustion."

Everard shut his eyes, only to open them a few moments later when he heard Elwin say, "Aunt Ela, can I just have a minute...I promise I won't bother him…"

Hearing his aunt concede, Everard shut his eyes again, steeling himself for whatever his twin might say. He hadn't really spoken to Elwin in… _Has it been just days? Or weeks?_ When he opened his eyes again, he found that everyone had left, including Ela, leaving only Elwin standing by his bedside. "Hey, El," he said quietly after a minute of silence.

"Hey." Elwin looked down. "I'm…I'm sorry."

"For what? You weren't the one who shoved a spear into me." Everard tried to make a joke of it; it fell flat. _Elwin looks so serious…_

And for someone so verbose, he was clearly struggling with his words. Eventually, he blurted,"I'm sorry for being an ass."

Everard didn't have a chance to ask for clarification before his brother started talking again words, tumbling out wildly. "I'm sorry for saying bad things about you to other people, I'm sorry I didn't understand that you're a different person…I was just scared you weren't so much my brother anymore…I know it's silly but you've changed...you've grown up, some say…I guess they're right…Then I just felt angry that you're so…so unlike me and I can't understand you like I used to and I just kept saying bad things because that's easier than admitting that I'm the problem…"

Ignoring how much his body hurt at the movement, Everard pulled himself up in the bed and reached out to grasp his brother's arm. "Elwin, stop. Look at me." When his twin's grey eyes met his brown ones, he said, "It wasn't just you, it was me. We're both to blame. And I am very, very tired so let's just agree that we've both been idiots to some extent and call it even. We can discuss it more later if you want; right now I just want to go back to sleep."

Elwin nodded, his eyes oddly bright. "I'm sorry," he said again. Then, softly, "You nearly _died_ , Ev…"

Knowing he would pay for it with more pain later but not caring, Everard pulled his twin into a tight hug. Elwin responded in kind. 

_I don't think I've forgiven him completely, and he probably hasn't forgiven me completely, either. But we're brothers; we can work it out. This is a start._ Releasing his brother, Everard sank back down into the bed with a heavy sigh, his eyes closing. He hurt all over, he was beyond exhausted, but he was alive. And he had his twin back.

_I'll be all right._

* * *

Hayden had been having a rather lazy day. Not interested in going on a hunt or patching up his dilapidated house, he had spent the majority of the morning and afternoon hours playing around with his wyverns in the yard, even napping with them when the spring sun was at its peak and its light was the warmest.

Per usual, his pets alerted him to the presence of a visitor long before her horse came cantering up the road.

"Lady Elen?"  _What on earth is she doing back here so soon?_ he wondered as he walked out to meet her. "Is something wrong?"

"Not with me, no. I just thought I'd wait here for my brother's return." Elen swung off her horse, this time with no sign of weakness. "I think he will stop here first. Hopefully he will travel fast so I do not impose upon your hospitality for too long."

"That is likely. And you won't, I'm sure."  _Is she by any chance being sarcastic?_  Hayden walked with her to the shed his visitors always used as a stable. "I heard there was some sort of skirmish up north a week or so ago? With a wild clan?"

"More of a pitched battle than mere skirmish, or so I heard. I wasn't there." Elen grimaced as she undid her horse's saddle. "Prince Everard was severely injured. He's recovering now."

"He was there? What about his brother?"  _It would be horrible if one of those twins were to die…imagine other's reaction…_

"Elwin wasn't brought along. He's not so reliable as Everard." The nearby screeching of the wyverns startled Elen's horse; she paused to calm it before continuing, "He was a mess when they brought Ev back. Started crying, had to be dragged away by Aldwyn while healers were tending to his twin…But as I said, Everard is on the mend. Perhaps he and Elwin will settle their differences now."

"Near-death experiences often results in such 'settlings', I'd think," Hayden commented.  _Didn't quite work out for Elen and_ her _twin, though…_

"I suppose you're right." Elen untied the saddlebags, and Hayden offered to carry them to the house for her. She let him.

"Were your parents all right with sending you here alone?"

"Two guards came with me. They turned around in the village. On my own way back to the city, I'll be with my brother." Elen paused by the front door of the cottage. "They were right not to let me leave alone." 

"Pardon?" Hayden halted as well. 

"My parents…They're overprotective at times…understandable…but they're right. I can't protect myself. Not without magic."

"I noticed you brought a sword with you."

"Doesn't mean I can use it well."

_Being helpless upsets her._ "I can wield a sword somewhat," Hayden said. "My father thought it was important in case I ever got into trouble without the wyverns around to help."

The corner of Elen's mouth quirked upwards. "Most people wouldn't consider wyverns 'help' of any kind. That aside…could you help me with using a sword?"

"Yes. When your brother gets back, though, you should get lessons from him. He's many times better than I ever could be."

Elen snorted and tossed her braid over her shoulder. "Of course he is. He's  _Gwaine_." She went into the house.

Hayden followed. _Last time she was here, she couldn't wait to leave. And now she's back._ He found that he wasn't much opposed to the idea.

* * *

Merlin was grateful that he was able to quickly return to his regular routine after his journey to Bernicia. Arthur seemed to forget that he'd ever left, Gwen only asked him once how is visit with his mother had gone, and Leon, Elyan, and Mordred did not mention any of it again. Though Merlin suspected that Percival had an idea of what had happened, judging by some of the glances he sent Merlin's way...But all in all, things were settling down nicely.

Then the king made an unexpected announcement.

"We have recently received emissaries from Amata. Sarrum wishes to come to Camelot to make a formal peace treaty, as there was never a solid one between our kingdoms before. He will arrive within a couple weeks, and we must all be prepared to show him every courtesy. We hope that this peace treaty will make Amata a long-lasting ally of Camelot."

_A ruler of another kingdom coming by for a peace treaty. It's always a mess in one way or another._ But this was Sarrum of Amata.  _He's the one who imprisoned Morgana and Aithusa..._ _He's been attacking Deira and, by extension, Bernicia..._ Merlin already disliked the man, if not hated him.  _Hopefully he's being honest when he says he wants a peace treaty..._

Whether or not Sarrum had truly peaceful intentions, it was certainly going to be a hectic few weeks.


	25. Chapter 24

"Looks like the spring rains have arrived." Hayden commented as he ducked into the sort of living room Elen was sitting in, shaking water droplets from his blond hair.

She made a face. "That bedroom you gave me…the roof leaks. That's why I'm in here, really."

"Sorry about that. This house falls apart more every year."

"And you let it?"

Hayden shrugged, refusing to be riled by her peevish tone.  _She's been outdoors almost constantly for the last few days. She's bound to be irritated by being trapped inside by mere weather. Not to mention she's probably worried about her brother…_

Elen seemed to take his thoughtful silence for something else and shifted in her chair. "It's not that bad, really. The leak, I mean. It's just in a one corner."

"I'll fix it when the rain stops." He sat down across from her. A small fire burned in the fireplace near them. "You made that?"

"Yes. It was fairly easy, even without magic." Elen glanced down at the book she'd been reading, one which she had brought with her from the city. "How are the wyverns taking the weather?"

"They're all huddled up in their sheds, grumbling."

"Can wyverns actually grumble?"

"I don't know how else to describe it. They screech when they're hungry, they hiss when they're defensive…"  _Really it's much more varied, but only I would know that_ …"and they grumble when they're mad about the weather." Watching the woman across from him, he grinned. "Hey, if you don't believe me, go out and see for yourself."

Elen gave a small laugh. "I'll pass this time." She returned to her book, leaving Hayden to consider an interesting development.

_Elen Barclayn just laughed._  Not a derisive snort, but an actual laugh. He couldn't remember hearing such a sound from her before.  _I think I'd like to hear it again._

His mind wandered to other things, namely the events of the last few days. They had been nothing momentous, just a few lessons in sword wielding...he'd been out of practice, but Elen was definitely much worse...a brief hunt with the wyverns...which Elen had seemed to enjoy...and hours of talking about nothing in particular. And each day, Hayden had noticed Elen's sour mood slowly lightening.

His thoughts were interrupted by her saying, "Hayden, can I ask you a personal question?"

"You have been asking me personal questions for days now and you haven't bothered to ask permission before," he said. "But you may."

She rolled her eyes at him, tapping her book with the fingertips of one hand. "Why didn't you ever learn how to read?"

"Never saw the need to. No one in my family could read, so no one could teach me anyway." He leaned back in his seat. "You do know that no one in the village below us can read, besides Flyta?"

Elen smirked. "I'm not  _that_  sheltered, Hayden. I was just curious."

"Indeed." After a short pause, Hayden realized that he'd been staring at Elen longer than would be considered polite, if she wasn't gazing brazenly back. They held the silent stare for a while longer.

She looked away first. "Mind if I ask another question?"

"Go on."

"How did Ryle die?" This time she didn't look at him. 

Hayden stiffened. "Why do you want to know that?"

Her brown eyes flashed as she looked up at him. "I'm not an idiot, Hayden. You're hiding something. Besides, I asked Everard about it when we left last time…He just changed the subject." When Hayden didn't respond, she continued, almost pleadingly, "Don't lie to me."

_Here goes nothing_. Hayden took a deep breath. "I know you don't remember this personally, but…When you were captured by the warlord Haig…" He hesitated at her involuntary shudder, but pressed on, "…His men managed to capture your brother, Aldwyn, and some knights of Camelot…You knew that much? Well, Ryle was traveling with them. He escaped, followed Haig's men back to his lair, then came to me for help."

"You used your wyverns against the men." Elen said. "Everard mentioned it…"

"I see…Anyway, during the 'battle', Ryle went after Haig by himself. He killed him, but paid with his life."

"So he died rescuing me."

"Yes, Elen. He did." 

Elen didn't say anything for a long moment. Then she stood, and in a sudden flurry of movement, hurled her book across the room.

Hayden jumped as it went flying past his left ear, but stayed in his seat while he watched Elen remain standing, clenching her fists and looking rather like she wanted to throw something else. When she didn't move or speak for a while, he ventured, "It upsets you."

She let out a loud, bitter laugh… _Couldn't be more different from her laugh a few minutes ago_ …and snarled, "Well, yes. It upsets me that a person actually died for me…or rather for someone as useless and pathetic as I've become."

S _he still looks like she's going to break something_. Standing, Hayden said, "Elen, come with me."

She looked surprised, but followed him out of the house. It wasn't very cold outside, but he heard her let out a groan of displeasure as scattered raindrops began to hit her. Hayden was less bothered, as his own clothes were still soaked from his earlier foray outside. He led her around to the back of the house, where he kept his firewood. Some of it was already split and stacked under the eaves of the house, relatively dry. A large pile remained out in the rain. As he moved to the dry space beneath the eaves to get a pair of gloves and his axe, he glanced back at Elen. She was watching him with raised eyebrows, her arms crossed over her chest, her dull green dress rain-drenched. "You're going to split wood?"

"No, you are." He handed her the gloves and the axe. "It'll calm you down," he added as he found a piece of wood and balanced it on the nearby chopping block. Looking at her, he smiled wryly. "You don't believe me?"

"Even if I did, I've never split wood in my life."

_I expected that_. "I'll teach you. I recommend you put the gloves on."

Shaking her head as if she couldn't believe she was doing it, she balanced the axe on the ground and did as he said.

As she faced the wood on the block as if it was an enemy, she gripped the axe with both hands and lifted it. "It's heavy." 

"It would work better if you held it like…" Automatically, Hayden stepped up behind her and reached around to correct her grip. She started and he backed away. "Sorry."  _She's skittish, with_ _boundaries_. _Can't forget that._

"No, it's fine. I was startled, that's all. Can you show me again?"

Almost an hour later, they returned to the house, both soaked by rainwater but considerably more relaxed. They went their separate ways to change into dry clothing, then met up back in the living room. Hayden got there first and was stoking the fire when Elen came in. She walked past him to the corner where her book still lay on the floor, picking it up and dusting it off. "My hands are sore.  _And_  my arms." She sent an accusing glance at Hayden, who realized that she was joking.

"Yes, but now you can split wood by hand. It's a valuable skill, you know." He sat down in the chair he had vacated earlier.

Elen sat across from him. "Perhaps, but it's not like I'll get a lot of chances to do it while living in a castle."

"Maybe you won't live in a castle forever."

She snorted and ran a hand through her unbraided hair. "Ha. No, I'll live in a castle my entire life, growing old and living off the money that comes with being a relative of the royal family. Like Great-Aunt Gytha…I don't think I'll be a storyteller, though. I'm not cut out for that."

"I agree."  _Would you rather not live in a castle your whole life, Elen?_

He didn't voice that question.

* * *

The next day was also a rainy one. Elen's body ached from the wood-chopping, yet... _It really did calm me down._

Still, she couldn't help but think of Ryle. She'd known him only as the dark, sneering stranger who had come lurking around Bernicia every so often, giving the king and the council news on events in the outside world and terrifying half the court by coming out of shadowy corners without warning. Then he'd leave without saying a word of farewell to anyone. Not that anyone minded; no one cared much for Ryle.

_He must've been a good person, deep down._  She sighed as she realized she'd just reread the same page of her book for the fifth time without absorbing much of it.

"History of the northern kings becoming depressing?" Hayden asked from where he was whittling something by the light of the fire. Outside, dusk was falling. "What you read to me last night was surprisingly lighthearted, if I recall."

"No, it's no different; I was just thinking." Elen rubbed her eyes.

"The lighting is bad in here."

"Yes. I think I'll go to bed early, anyway. Though I've done nothing of note today…" A muffled bang from the front of the house stopped her. "Wait, did you hear that?"

"I did. Why haven't the wyverns made more noise if someone's here?" Hayden stood as the sound of footsteps approached. In one swift motion, the wyvern tamer crossed to the fireplace and picked up his sword. Elen cursed under her breath when she remembered that she'd left hers in her room.

It turned out there was no need for weapons anyway, as the door opened a second later to reveal Gwaine, soaked to the skin and looking shaky. "Your wyverns were unusually receptive, Hayden. Guess they recognized me. And…Elen, what are  _you_  doing here?"

"Waiting for you." Elen felt the worry that had been simmering inside her since her brother had left Bernicia melt away, replaced by annoyance.  _Brother, if you didn't looks so exhausted…_ "And learning to chop wood," she added on impulse.

A spluttering noise off to one side told her that Hayden was trying not to laugh. Gwaine just looked confused. "I…Elen, what…You know, never mind. I put my horse in the shed, Hayden; now if you could just show me to a room I would really like to get some sleep."

"Of course…Are you all right, Gwaine?" Hayden asked.

_Gwaine does look unwell…and he seems so tense…maybe it's just the fact that I'm here…or maybe not…_ Elen felt worried again. "Gwaine, what happened?"

"What happened?" Gwaine looked unwilling to answer, then gave a shrug and said in a rushed way, "Well, a couple knights of Camelot were in Ealdor when Merlin and I got there, then when I left I ran straight into Morgana Pendragon and her cronies…You know, Hayden, I think I finally understand why Aithusa called her twisted; the woman's  _insane_ …I caught them all by surprise and managed to get away, and in my eagerness to stay out of her clutches I nearly ran my horse and myself into the ground coming back here. Oh, and I got hit by some spell that made me violently sick for several days. It's worn off now…but I would really, _really_ like to go to bed."

_Knights…Morgana Pendragon…spells…what?_ Elen longed to question her brother then and there until she got the whole story, but a look from Hayden stopped her.  _Fine. Questions…and that punch in the face I still intend to give him…can wait for now._

* * *

Everard was sitting up in bed and watching the rain pour down outside when Haralda slouched in. "I was on patrols. That's why I haven't been to see you yet."

"That's what I heard." Everard watched his older sister pace around the room, a sour expression on her face. "Are you all right, Haralda?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

_Behavior like that is why Haralda is the most isolated person in our family._  Everard leaned back on his pillows. "You just seem tense."

"Ha. Tense." She came to stand next to his bed. "How are you feeling?

"Well enough. Considering. I'm a bit bored."

"Reading not interesting enough?"

"Not when I can't get up and stretch my legs as often as I want. Aunt Ela is keeping a close eye on me. I think she's recruited Elwin to keep me in bed and entertained. He's off getting dinner right now."

"Yeah, I saw him in the hall." Haralda's expression softened; if Everard didn't know her so well, he would have missed it. "You two are talking again?"

"Yes, we are." 

"Good." Haralda sat down on the edge of the bed, her gaze distant. "Everard," she said abruptly, "while in Camelot, did you make the acquaintance of some knights called Leon, Elyan, and Percival?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." Everard sat up straighter. "Did you see them when you were in Camelot with Aunt Ela?"

"So you heard all about that."

"Gwaine told me. You just gave it away, anyhow."

"Fair point."

"Why do you ask about those knights?"

"I talked to them."

Everard's eyes widened. Before he could say anything, Haralda snapped, "Don't tell me it was stupid; that sorcerer-servant-Dragonlord-whatever already did. They didn't know who I was. I lied to them about my name."

"Good." Everard said, relieved. Then again, if they had known…"I wouldn't have thought you'd want to speak to them at all. I mean, Knights of Camelot and all…"

"I was curious, that's all."

"I…see."

Pause. "Percival's tall."

"Yes…I suppose he is."

Haralda stood. "Goodnight, Everard," she said shortly, turning to leave.

"Goodnight." _What's the matter with you, Haralda?_

As she opened the door, Elwin ducked in.

"Hey, Haralda!" She ignored the teenager and walked away. Elwin shrugged and came to sit next to his brother. "What's up with her?"

Everard shook his head. "Elwin, honestly…I have no idea. I don't understand her at all sometimes."

* * *

Gwaine slept in late. Considering the journey he'd had, he felt he deserved it. He was still rather drowsy as he got dressed and headed outside to find Hayden and Elen. Leaving the house, he noted that the skies had cleared and the clearing was bathed in morning sunshine.  _It's very peaceful here…away from courtly intrigue and…well, just about everything else…_

His thoughts were interrupted by a laugh coming from by the wyvern pens. Wide awake now, Gwaine stopped in his tracks.  _Elen?_

He hadn't heard his sister laugh like that since…Actually, he didn't know.

Coming up to the pens, he saw Hayden sprawled on the ground, practically pinned by two wyvers who were nuzzling him. _If they were dogs, he'd be covered in slobber_. Elen was leaning on the fence, laughing at the scene. "Can't keep your pets under control, Hayden?"

"You try it, milady!" Hayden was chuckling, too. "Alright, Topaz, Diamond, off!"

As the wyvern tamer began pushing the scaly animals away, Elen turned and saw Gwaine. Her expression sobering, she walked up to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. And good morning to you, too."

"Hmm." Elen smiled tightly, then hit him in the face.

It was a glancing blow that did no damage and only caused Gwaine to retreat a step or two, but it did sting. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For...let's just say it's for running off with that Merlin like you did." Elen glowered at him. "I came here looking for you, you know…then went back, then came here again…" Her anger seemed to dissipate. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Besides the fact that my twin sister just hit me in the face…I'm fine. There was nothing wrong with me that a good night's sleep couldn't cure."

"Good." All of a sudden, she stepped forward and gave him a quick, firm embrace. He hardly had time to return it before she stepped back again. "Thank you," she said.

He blinked, baffled by his sister's abrupt changes in tone. "For what?"

"For being my brother." She smiled at him, then said, "I'm going in to grab some breakfast; do you want some? Hayden?"

"Yes, thank you, Elen." As she walked back to the house, Hayden told Gwaine, "She found all my food stashes."

Gwaine nodded, knowing well the wyvern tamer's habit of hiding all his food just in case one of his smaller wyverns got loose and started nosing around. "Naturally." He watched the wyverns in their pens, tussling and growling, but his thoughts were elsewhere. "Hayden?"

"Yes?"

"You got Elen to laugh."

"So?"

"Never mind."

"Oh." Hayden paused. "By the way, you ought to give her some sword-fighting lessons. She's tired of being…'useless'. Her word, not mine."

Gwaine tried to imagine himself teaching his sister _anything_ and failed. "That should be…interesting."  _Especially now that she's acting…like herself. I think._ He didn't understand why, but the timid, hysterical sister he'd left after their last painful conversation had vanished.  _At least she's not accusing me of stealing her magic…_

* * *

"My lady, we have just received word that Sarrum and his entourage have left Amata and are heading towards Camelot. Tomorrow we will move camp again and enter the kingdom ourselves. Then, we shall wait for the right moment to strike." Alvarr paused. "My lady?"

Morgana glared at him. She was pleased that something was finally happening, that their plans were finally falling into place, but she was also furious.  _How can I not be? No sign of Aithusa, and the arrogance of that former knight…_

Alvarr seemed to understand what she was thinking about. "You know, Morgana, I've been thinking about that man Gwaine and something bothers me about him."

"Besides the fact that he ought not to have magic but he does? And he escaped using magic…against us!" Morgana forced herself not to set some part of the tent they stood in on fire. "I cannot believe that he also managed to outrun our men…"

"I was thinking of something else, my lady." Alvarr cleared his throat. "You say that before he was a knight, he was a common rogue?"

"Yes, he was," Morgana snapped. "And a drunkard too, from what I heard."

"Exactly…Morgana, he was dressed too well to be a common drunkard. And the horse he rode was a fine noble steed. If he's not a knight anymore..."

"So?" Privately, Morgana thought he was right.  _He_ was _dressed too well…I wonder if…_ Shaking her head, she said, "We should waste no more time thinking of him. His powers, though unexpected, were pathetic. We have more pressing worries."

"Of course, my lady." 

"And no news of a white dragon?"

"None, my lady."

Morgana sighed, angry and upset at the same time.  _If nothing turns up soon_ … _When I am finally queen of Camelot, I_ _will_ _do all in my power to find her. Until then…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can personally vouch for the stress-relieving benefits of wood-chopping.


	26. Chapter 25

"You know, Merlin, it would help if I was completely dressed before Sarrum arrives!"

Merlin rolled his eyes as he carried Arthur's armor over to the disgruntled-looking king. "Come on, Arthur, getting dressed properly takes time, and you wouldn't want to look sloppy in front of another ruler, would you?"

"I'd rather look sloppy than be seen wearing nothing but my undershirt!"

"All right, all right!" Merlin began to help Arthur into the armor, hiding his grin as he did so. Seeing Arthur nervous was slightly amusing…though Merlin was himself apprehensive about their latest guest.

From what the manservant had heard over the last few days, Sarrum had visited Camelot years before, when Arthur was still a child. Judging by the way Arthur talked about that visit, Merlin would say that the then-prince had not had a very nice time. Uther had rather disliked Sarrum , and hadn't kept up very friendly relations with Amata afterward. For the most part, the two kingdoms had just ignored each other.

This aided the growth of Merlin's suspicions regarding Sarrum's "peace treaty".  _Not that I would've trusted him anyway._

"Merlin! This gauntlet goes on the other arm!"

Merlin shook himself out of his thoughts and made a quick retort. "I was just checking to see if you would notice!"

"Well, that's not my job, is it?"

"Prat."

"Idiot."

"Dollop-head."

Guinevere walked into the room, only shaking her head when she heard the exchange between the two men. "Is the king almost ready, Merlin? Sarrum and his men are approaching the city now."

"Yes, he just needs his sword."  _He's got to wear it to look kingly, I guess, though there's little to no chance he'll be using it today…_ Merlin picked up the weapon from the table, but was stopped from putting it into its sheath by Arthur asking, "Are you sure you polished it, Merlin?"

_No, Arthur, I don't know how you haven't noticed, but this is a magic sword that hardly ever needs polishing at all._ Not able to say that, of course, Merlin shrugged and said, "Polished it last night along with your armor, sire."

"Alright then," the king grumbled, grabbing the sword and sliding it into its sheath by his side.

"It looks fine," Gwen said. "But your hair doesn't. Merlin, did he even bother brushing it this morning?"

"Why are you asking him when I'm standing right here? And I  _would_  have if Merlin would leave my comb where I can find it!"

Merlin tried not to laugh as the queen calmly picked up the "missing" comb from where it lay on the beside cabinet and handed it to her husband. "You are truly hopeless sometimes, Arthur."

The king appeared abashed for a moment, until he caught sight of Merlin's amused expression. "Shut up,  _Mer_ lin!"

The manservant ducked out of the room, grinning.

A short while later, watching as the ruler of Amata rode up to the steps of the castle, Merlin wished that there was room for joking in  _this_  situation.

Mounted on a powerful gray charger, his heavy brown cloak hanging off his broad shoulders, Sarrum looked down upon the rows of Camelot knights and courtiers spread along the castle steps, headed by Arthur. A sneer appeared on the older king's heavy-jawed face as his beady eyes scrutinized the young Pendragon and Gwen, who stood next to her husband.

Merlin shuddered. Something about the Sarrum's calculating eyes and twisted smirk terrified him.

Arthur didn't seem intimidated in the least. "Camelot welcomes you, Sarrum of Amata."

"It has been a long time since I have visited your kingdom, Pendragon." Sarrum swung heavily off his mount, then gestured for his men to do the same. Walking up to Arthur, he said, "Last time I was here, you were but ten years of age. I recall that Uther held a tournament. In  _your_  honor."

Merlin glimpsed Arthur's rigid smile as he shook hands with Sarrum. "I fight my own battles now."

"I daresay you do." 

From his vantage point off to the side, Merlin saw Sarrum cast an appraising glance Gwen's way as Arthur invited the lord and his men inside.Gwen stiffened, but, like her husband, refused to be intimidated.

Merlin released the breath he'd unconsciously been holding.  _Maybe, just maybe, this will work out all right…Sarrum is probably just trying to concoct a treaty that will be more favorable to Amata than to Camelot…Arthur and Gwen won't let that happened…Hell,_ I _won't let that happen…_

Then a horrible thought occurred to him.  _What if this peace treaty, this alliance, means Camelot goes to war with a country which Sarrum been attacking? Namely, Deira. And, by extension, Bernicia. Which means war with the Barclayns…_

Merlin knew that Arthur didn't want war. The young Pendragon had seen so much conflict in his life already. His past actions had proved how he was willing to work with some former enemies to achieve peace.  _But he still hates magic. From what I've heard, Sarrum persecutes magic-users as well. It could become a common cause…Camelot and Amata against kingdoms that allow magic._

" _Merlin_!" Arthur shouted from the entryway.

The warlock wrenched himself out of his thoughts and hurried after his king.

* * *

It was a difficult couple days for Merlin, for everybody, really, but especially for Merlin.

During the feast on the evening of Sarrum's arrival, Merlin was standing behind the high table as the Amatan told the king and queen about how he'd used Aithusa to capture Morgana, and how the witch had escaped in the end due to inattention.

Merlin had trouble feeling sorry for Morgana, even given the circumstances. But the gleeful way Sarrum described the effect of the too-small prison on Aithusa's growing body made the warlock feel physically ill.

"It's so  _wrong_ , Gaius…The way he just kept eating as he talked, savoring how he tortured her like he was savoring his dinner…I don't think even  _Morgana_  deserved that kind of imprisonment…but when I saw Aithusa…He  _destroyed_  her, Gaius! That monster…even Arthur looked kind of sick…"

His guardian had been sympathetic, but per usual cautioned him against impulsive action. "Sarrum is an awful person, Merlin, no one is disputing that. Arthur certainly knows it well enough. But you know how much this alliance means to our king. Don't cause any trouble and things should work out well enough."

Merlin wasn't convinced.

Then there was the way Sarrum acted towards everyone in Camelot. He showed complete disregard for those of lower station, acting domineering and cruel towards his servants; Merlin could accept that, albeit reluctantly. Many nobles from Camelot behaved the same way. More worrisome was the way Sarrum treated the queen. His words were polite when he spoke to Guinevere, but his tone always held contempt, far more than when he spoke to Arthur. Especially hateful were the calculating looks he sent her way, often accompanied by a smirk.

The other Amatans were little better. Overall they were a crude lot, often seen striding around the corridors of the castle, armed to the teeth and leering at the maids they passed.

They were admirable warriors, however, something which Merlin found out much to his consternation. Arthur ended up fighting one of Sarrum's favorite soldiers, an tall man named Albin. Arthur lost, even ending up on the ground with Albin's sword pressed against his back.

There had been a tense moment before Sarrum called his man off, bragging that he taught Albin the art of combat himself.

_If the rest of his men are half as good in combat…_

An air of unease hung about Camelot as the negotiations for the peace treaty went slower than they should have. Merlin was no expert on treaty writing, but to him it appeared that Sarrum was stalling. The king of Camelot grew visibly more frustrated as the hours of negotiation in the council chamber went by. The third evening after Sarrum's arrival, Merlin listened to Arthur vent his frustration to Gwen as he tidied up the royal chamber for the night.

"He keeps on bringing up the opinions of this king in this kingdom over here then how that ruler of that kingdom might react to an alliance between Amata and Camelot…He's driving me insane, Guinevere! Does he want peace or doesn't he?"

"He is a warlike man," Gwen said. "Perhaps he's merely being careful. As anyone should be while making an alliance as serious as this one."

"I think my father handled him better. Sarrum seemed to at least  _respect_  him. Though Father, for his part…seemed to fear him. He does have a terrifying reputation, the Sarrum. The people he's killed…" Arthur sighed, his gaze bleary. "Am I doing the right thing, Gwen?"

"I don't know. But I do know you, and you always do what you believe to be right, Arthur." Gwen put her hand on her husband's arm. "And I support your decisions. We all do…right, Merlin?" She smiled at the servant, who shrugged.

"Not sure it's my place to say…" He never minded giving advice when he could; however, being questioned about his opinions on the Sarrum was not something he wanted.

"Oh, come on, Merlin, it's never stopped you before." Arthur said sourly.

"True. But you usually don't listen to me, anyway."

"Oh for heaven's sake, _Mer_ lin…"

The warlock didn't blame Arthur for being in a dark mood. Sarrum just seemed to do that to everyone around him.

Yet it was an incident the next morning that turned Merlin's gnawing worry into full-blown panic.

He was hurrying along a back hallway to the kitchens with the king and queen's dirty breakfast dishes when he rounded a corner and nearly walked straight into Sarrum, who was speaking in a low voice to a cloaked man who Merlin didn't recognize. Both men turned to stare at the servant as he stumbled to a halt, nearly dropping the dishes.

"Going somewhere, boy?" Sarrum hissed.

"Um…Yeah, the kitchens, I'll…I'll just be going…" Merlin slipped past the two men, catching a glimpse of an unfolded letter held in the Sarrum's hand as he did so. He could feel the Amatan's eyes boring into him as he continued down the hall.

_Who the hell was that?_

"Perhaps it was just a messenger, Merlin. The Sarrum does have a kingdom to run, even in his absence," Gaius suggested.

"That's what Arthur said when I told him about it. If it was 'just a messenger', why meet him in a dark hallway?" Merlin demanded. "No, he's up to something, Gaius. I can tell."

"Which I suppose means you'll be doing some poking around."

"Yeah, just like always." 

"Just be careful, Merlin."

"Aren't I always?"

"Honestly…no."

* * *

If Merlin wasn't so concerned about the fate of Camelot, he'd be sulking.

"It's all, 'Shut up, Merlin, you can't go around insulting a royal guest, even if he is a violent monster', and 'I'm trying to finish a peace treaty here and making wild accusations, or _any_  accusations, won't help at all'…" Merlin muttered darkly as he strode through the castle hallways, returned from mucking out the stables, a task which Arthur had set him to after the third or fourth heated conversation about Sarrum's trustworthiness.

_"Merlin, I know you don't like him…neither do I, actually…but one messenger is not enough for me to order him thrown in the dungeons and subjected to interrogation!"_

Merlin would have brought more evidence to Arthur's attention, but since the previous day when the incident with the messenger had occurred, Merlin's "poking around" hadn't yielded any results. And of course Gwen hadn't been around to reason with her husband. Arthur would have still told Merlin off, but in all likelihood Merlin wouldn't be smelling like horse dung right now.

"Now I've probably missed the damn treaty signing," Merlin said to himself. Sarrum had at last stopped dithering and the treaty had been finished in short order. While Merlin had been floundering around in manure, the official signing ceremony had commenced in the great hall.  _Though at this point I'm surprised Arthur can manage a simple treaty signing without me around…_

He was on his way to the great hall, just to see how things were progressing before going to clean up, when he heard voices up ahead.

"We don't have all day!"

"Do you want to get caught? No? Then shut up."

Merlin recognized the first voice simply because of the notably few instances he'd heard it over the last few days.  _Albin._ Why wasn't he with the Sarrum at the treaty signing, and more importantly, who was he with?

Slowing his pace, the warlock crept along the hall towards the voices, staying in the shadows along the pillars. He distinctly heard a whispered word and soft click, followed by receding footsteps.

Merlin frowned and hurried forward. Rounding a corner he found a narrow door slightly ajar, a door that he knew led to a staircase which led to the balcony above the great hall.

This particular door was supposed to be locked at all times.

A chill went down Merlin's spine.  _One of the two whispered something and unlocked the door…magic…and Albin is basically Sarrum's personal bodyguard…or assassin…_

Merlin wrenched the door all the way open and raced up the stairs, slowing as he reached the top.  _If I'm seen…_ As quietly as he could, he sidled up the last few steps and took a quick peek.

Albin was facing away from him, loading a crossbow. And not one but two other people were with him: a man with a thick black beard who was glowering at the Amatan, and a woman, her brown curls mostly hidden beneath the hood of her muddy cloak. She was standing apart from the men, leaning forward, seemingly interested in what was going on below in the hall. Merlin could barely hear Arthur saying something to the hall at large.  _"…now we will sign this treaty to ensure a lasting alliance between our kingdoms…"_

Merlin would have found the slow speed of the signing funny if there wasn't a group of assassins right in front of him, watching the proceedings.  _They're going for Arthur…or maybe Gwen? Killing the king of Camelot would make more sense, if Sarrum wants to weaken the kingdom…either way…_

He was trying to figure out a way to incapacitate all three with magic without making a ruckus that would be heard by someone else when the bearded man looked at the woman and snarled, "You're supposed to be watching the stairs, you idiot!" His gaze moved to the steps, catching Merlin frozen before the warlock could duck out of sight.

_Oh dear._

The woman stumbled back in shock as she also caught sight of Merlin, and her bearded companion cursed softly and stepped forward, raising his hand. Behind him, Albin seemed to take in the situation and moved to the edge of the balcony, raising his crossbow, aiming it at the hall below. Clearly, he intended to fulfill his task despite the interruption.

_Oh no you don't._ As the bearded man began to cast a spell, Merlin shoved him back against the wall with magic. He heard something crack as the man slumped down on the floor. The woman… _She seems more of a girl, actually…_ gasped and pulled out a dagger, her grip on the weapon confident but her eyes wide with fright.

Merlin hesitated to attack her for a moment...a moment too long.

Albin fired the crossbow.

Time slowed. Lunging forward, Merlin used a small burst of magic to knock the bolt off course; it didn't really matter where it landed as long as it didn't hit its intended target. Then he crashed into Albin, sending the crossbow flying and the warrior stumbling against the stone railing.

Time sped up again. Shouts rang out in the hall as Albin's height and momentum carried him over the railing and down to the floor below.

Merlin heard the sickening thud, but was stopped from looking by a enraged shriek behind him. Spinning around, he beheld the young girl coming at him with her dagger, her hood slipping off her head. Slashing expertly, she managed to open a tear in Merlin's shirt, barely scraping the skin beneath, before he disarmed her with a flick of his wrist and pinned her against the nearest wall.

"Stinking traitor!" she screamed. "Let go of me!"

"I may stink like dung right now, but there's no way I'm letting you go!" With a sinking feeling, Merlin realized that if he did hold on to her, he would be present when the knights arrived.  _How do I explain this?_ "You were trying to kill the king!"

"It's no less than that filthy Pendragon deserves!"

"Are you working for the Sarrum?"

She struggled more fiercely and Merlin had to use the advantage of his larger size to hold her against the wall. He didn't dare use magic now . "Your companion was a sorcerer; are you one as well?"

"Who's up there?" he heard Leon shout from the bottom of the staircase.

Nearly panicking, Merlin realized that he couldn't escape this situation.  _She'll tell them about my magic…we'll both be executed as traitors…_ Yet he heard himself call, "It's me, Merlin! And one of the assassins!"

There was a rush of footsteps up the staircase, and a number of people crowded onto the balcony, among them several knights, guards, and, of course, Arthur, his crown askew. " _Merlin_?" he gaped, "You…" His gaze traveled from the balcony railing to the still form of the bearded man to where Merlin was allowing a couple guards to take hold of the girl. "You…stopped the assassination attempt?  _You_?" The king appeared flabbergasted.

"This one's dead." Elyan said from next to the bearded man's body. 

Looking down, Merlin mumbled, "I saw the door was open, so…" He trailed off into an awkward silence. Everyone was staring at him.

Arthur shook his head. "Who would've believed it." Then, regaining his kingly air, he said, "We'll discuss it later," and turned to the girl. "And who are you?"

Nostrils flared, the girl said, "One who would see you dead as you deserve, Pendragon." Her eyes darted over to Merlin. "And I hope you realize that…"

Merlin froze in terror as he realized what she was going to say in her anger, what she was about to reveal.

"Your Majesty! We're keeping Sarrum under guard as you requested!" Mordred burst into the scene, panting from running up the stairs. He caught sight of Merlin, and the girl, who stopped speaking the moment she saw him.

Merlin saw their eyes meet with a strange intensity. And Mordred's voice sounded in his mind, though he was not meant to hear, speaking a single word laden with a torrent of emotion.

_Kara!_

* * *

_"You conspired with the Sarrum and a sorcerer to have me killed?"_

_"To free Camelot from your tyranny. I do not deny it."_

She was holding something back. It was obvious to him, perhaps even to Arthur, who could be discerning. But it didn't matter. She was already condemning herself enough.

_"You show no remorse…Kara, right?"_

_"I see no need for remorse. It is you who should be sorry."_

She had always been a loving person. She had a good heart; as a child, she had been very compassionate. One of the many things he had loved about her.

_"What is it that I have done that makes you wish to see me dead?"_

_"I don't think I need to tell you your list of crimes, Arthur Pendragon. They are written in blood for all time."_

These could not be Kara's own words. Someone else…not the Sarrum, it didn't seem right…had been feeding these cruel ideas to her, turning her into the defiant, pitiless creature she was now.

_"Then I have no choice except to sentence you to death."_

Something which Arthur had been unable to do to the Sarrum, for obvious reasons. The Pendragon had been so unwilling to declare open war that he'd let the ruler of Amata leave, banning him and his people from further contact with Camelot. The parting had been worse than tense, and the peace treaty had long ago burned to ashes in some forgotten fireplace.

_"At dawn tomorrow, you will be taken to the square and hanged, in according with the laws of Camelot."_

_"As you wish. It matters not. Your doom is near, Arthur Pendragon. My only sadness is that I won't be there to see it."_

This wasn't about the Sarrum wishing to overpower Camelot. This was about the war between the Pendragons and magic. Kara was only one warrior.

_And now she is going to die. I can't let that happen._

Sir Mordred gripped the stone balustrade of the outdoor balcony, his knuckles turning white as he gazed out at the city below, the scene in the council chambers that morning repeating in his mind. It had taken an entire day and night for Arthur to even think of holding a trial for the girl. The Amatans had been, if possible, even angrier than the people of Camelot over how events had fallen out.

Merlin had said that the bearded man who he had killed… _by accident_ …had been a sorcerer. Kara had not denied it, though Mordred knew that Merlin must have used magic and Kara must have seen it. But she kept silent on the matter.  _Probably because of me, somehow…when she saw me here…_

He and Kara had known each other as children. Their affection had been strong, enduring even as the years passed and they had been separated. They had also seen each other only a couple years previously, for a short time, before circumstances forced them apart again.

Mordred was a knight of Camelot. But Kara…Kara meant too much to him. He could not watch her die.

_I must speak to Arthur before it is too late…tell him that I can convince Kara that he isn't evil…tell him my suspicions, that someone else was involved in the assassination attempt, in twisting Kara's views…Sarrum would not say who, but perhaps the Lady Morgana…_

Yet…What if Arthur refused to rescind his judgement?

_Then I have no choice. I have to get her out of Camelot._

Mordred wished to stay loyal to his king. However, his mind was all but made up.

_Kara comes before my duty as a knight._

She was one of the very few things that did.

* * *

"Merlin, I just don't understand. I've been thinking about it since it happened and I just don't…You, of all people, managed to kill two men and subdue an insane girl by yourself?"

The warlock looked at everything in the royal chambers besides at his king. "I've told you before, I'm much stronger than I look. I caught them unawares. And I wasn't even trying to kill Albin…just knock the crossbow out of his hands…"

"Well…" Arthur appeared to be struggling with the idea of Merlin actually attacking and killing someone, let alone two someones. "Fine…Merlin, I don't…Thanks. For saving my life."

Merlin forced himself not to sigh in relief and forced a grin. "Wow, that must've hurt, admitting that I saved you!"

"Shut up,  _Mer_ lin!"

Merlin did let out a relieved sigh when he left the kings chambers shortly afterwards, but the weight of his nearly-discovered secret weighed upon him.  _Gaius was right when he scolded me about this incident…that was way too close..._ And now he had to worry about whatever Mordred's connection was with this Kara girl.

_I can never catch a break, can I?_

* * *

"Morgana, calm down!" Alvarr shouted.

The High Priestess paused in her cursing and throwing of fireballs into nearby trees to glower at him. "I cannot believe that one of your men and one of Sarrum's best assassins failed in such a simple task as merely  _shooting Arthur from a perfect vantage point while he was no doubt standing in one place_!"

Alvarr glared straight back at her. "Apparently your  _handmaiden_  was a useless lookout. And Sarrum's messenger mentioned a servant who came upon the assassins unexpectedly…"

Morgana, having just been rather red in the face from anger and shouting, went white. " _Merlin_." she breathed. "Arthur's manservant…He ruins  _everything_ he comes across…when I get my hands on him…" She trailed off, then snapped, "And  _you_  recruited Kara, Alvarr, not me."

" _You're_  the one who grew attached to her." Alvarr glanced over his shoulder at the nearby camp, where several of his people were whispering together and sending the bickering pair furtive looks.

"Ha. Little magical skill, but her dedication to our cause is admirable." Morgana seemed disinterested. "She will say nothing of our involvement. We must not give our position away, not even to Sarrum. She knows that."

_And she will almost certainly die for it._ After a moment, Alvarr ventured, "The Sarrum has been allowed to return to his kingdom, but his letter did hold much anger against Camelot."

"Anger we must make use of." Morgana smirked, her grey-green eyes gleaming as she latched onto another plan to seize "her" throne from her half-brother. "No matter how much Arthur desires peace, there will still be a war, Alvarr. Mark my words."

_And once again, I will have to do the talking for this woman._ Her abrasive superiority was beginning to grate on his nerves.  _She was much easier to handle when she was young and innocent._

Back then, she never came even close to setting the forest on fire.


	27. Chapter 26

The afternoon after he arrived at Hayden's, Gwaine was checking on his horse when Elen cornered him. "We need to talk."

"Yes, I suppose we do." He sat down on a rickety bench built into the wall next to the door and crossed his arms. "You can start, if you like." _Here we go…_

Hands on her hips, Elen gave him a searching look. "Why did you become a knight of Camelot?"

He hadn't expected that question. "Didn't we discuss this before?"

"You didn't discuss it with me."

"Fine, then. To start from the beginning…I barely remember the first few years after I left. They mostly went by in a haze of alcohol and...general insanity." Shuddering, he continued, "I moved a lot from place to place, as I'm sure you know already…spent some time on the Western Isle…scary place, that; some of the people there make the northern clans looked civilized…Anyway, a few years ago I found myself in Camelot…not the city, a village a day's ride away from it. I was just passing through, stopped at a tavern to get a drink."

"I've heard about your drunken act." 

"It wasn't an act." Then, clearing his throat, he said, "So, there I was in this tavern, minding my own business. A couple men walked in, a scrawny black-haired one and a blond, both dressed like peasants. I barely noticed them at first. Until some scoundrel…his name was Dagr, if you're interested…came in and ordered the tavern owner to give him the day's profits. He threatened her with a knife, and the blond from earlier got up and told him to quit it. Dagr called in his troupe of buffoons and quite a brawl erupted. I may or may not have thrown the first punch, but moving on…During the fight I saw the black-haired man throwing things around with magic; didn't say anything, though, for obvious reasons…"

"That was Merlin, then?"

"Yeah. Anyway, soon it came down to Dagr and the blond. The thug pulled out a knife, the other man didn't seem to notice it, so I jumped between them. Took a dagger to the leg. Woke up the next day in a strange room…Merlin's, actually…to discover that the blond I'd saved the life of was none other than Arthur Pendragon." Gwaine paused. "To make a long story short…Dagr and one of his henchmen infiltrated Camelot under heavy disguise…magic crystals or something…threatened Merlin, nearly got me executed when I stood up for him…"

" _What_?"

"Yes, sister, I got to have a lovely face-off with Uther. Some stupid law about commoners not being allowed to attack noblemen…I mean, they don't do it here much but no one takes arguments like that directly to the king…So, Arthur came to my defense…I'd be dead if he hadn't…" Elen seemed uncomfortable at that, but Gwaine pressed on, "I got banished from Camelot, but managed to save the prince again. Few months later, Merlin found me and dragged me along to rescue Arthur yet again…some quest to get a trident. The prince was grateful but I still couldn't enter Camelot. Then I ran across them later…another long story…helped them retrieve some magical cup or other…By the time we reached Camelot, everything had gone to hell…Did you hear about Morgana Pendragon seizing the throne?"

"She did that twice, correct?" At his nod, Elen continued, "Yes, we heard rumors up here. First time…did she really use the Cup of Life?"

"Yeah."

Elen looked horrified. "So…you helped Arthur Pendragon retake Camelot from an _immortal army_?"

"Yes, but I think Merlin did most of the work."

"Why do I get the feeling that's normal?" Elen muttered. "Please go on."

"Not much to say, really. Arthur knighted me and some other men, as a reward for being loyal to him 'in Camelot's hour of need'. And we took back Camelot. The end. Sort of. We kept losing it, apparently."

Elen ignored his attempt at a joke. "So, you just let him knight you?"

"What was I supposed to do? Say no? 'Pardon me, Arthur, but I really don't fancy being one of your knights because if my family finds out, my mother will scold me within an inch of my life, my uncle will lock me in a dungeon, and my sister will kill me'. The other three…Lancelot, Percival, and Elyan…they were surprised, like I was, but genuinely wanted to be knights. And being a knight of Camelot wasn't all that bad, actually."

"Hmm." Elen looked thoughtful. "So Arthur rewards loyalty with knighthood. Fair enough. But…if it 'wasn't all that bad', then…were you just fine with leaving it behind?"

Gwaine hesitated, his long-lasting contempt for Arthur Pendragon battling with newer realizations brought on by his conversations with Merlin and by his recent run-in with Morgana. "Arthur…Arthur isn't a cruel or bad man, Elen. He's…very misguided. There are some things which he just won't tolerate. When he found out that I'd lied to him about who I was…and that I was related to magic-users…he alienated me before I did him. At the time, it felt like the right thing to do." Memories of a whispered fight filled with bitter words in a dark dungeon assailed him. "Some of the things he said…I'd spent a very long time pretending to be someone I wasn't…I even lied to Merlin, for a while…When it came down to it, I couldn't reconcile my true beliefs with those of the man I'd once called my king. Besides…Aldwyn would've ripped me to pieces before he let me go back to Camelot. And you were there, half-dead…Honestly, Elen, there was no choice to make then."

Elen took a minute to absorb this. The only sound in the shed was the horses munching on hay. When she spoke again, she changed the subject. "When did you first realize that you had magic?"

"A couple months after I came back home. Things just started happening…I attempted…and failed…to ignore it until a short while ago." Pause. "Look, Elen, I'm sorry. I know that in some weird way, it's your magic…I don't understand it, I don't need it, I certainly didn't want it…I was hoping that it would return to you once you…once you woke up. It didn't. I'm stuck with it." He stopped to take a breath.

Elen spoke before he could say anything else. "Show me." The _now_ was implied.

Not wanting to start a fire in a room with horses, Gwaine looked around, gaze falling upon the open shed door. " ** _Ne onluce_.**" This spell came easily to him. He felt the now-familiar tingle of magic as the door swung shut. Looking back to his sister, he winced at the near-hungry expression on her face.

"So strange…" She sighed, shutting her eyes.

_She'll get used to it…I hope…_

Opening her eyes again, she said, "Gwaine, I also wanted to say…what you did to Father…"

He lifted his hand to stop her. "Elen, you know what happened, I know what happened, half the damn world knows what happened. It was an accident, nothing more." Standing, he added more gently, "I can't tell you how sorry I am that you…you had to deal with the aftermath. I know I did the wrong thing in running, but I…I was barely sixteen, and terrified. I didn't forgive myself for a long time…I don't know if I have even yet."

His sister met his gaze, her eyes glistening. "I know, Gwaine, I…I didn't understand for the longest time, didn't know the whole story…I do now, I think…and I'm sorry, too, sorry that you had to live alone with…with that for so long…"

He hesitated for only a second before pulling her into a tentative embrace, which she returned. When they parted, Elen said, "Now that's out of the way…"

_Thank God_ …"Something else on your mind?

"Someday soon you're telling me all you know about that Merlin imbecile, but for now…I was wondering…since I no longer have magic, if you would…"

"Give you sword-fighting lessons? Yeah, Hayden said something…"

"Good. Why don't we start now?"

_My sister certainly doesn't waste time, does she? Done with one conversation, on with the next._ Though he had a feeling that they would be airing out their differences periodically for months…if not years…to come.

* * *

They went home the next day. Gwaine, feeling mildly suspicious, watched Elen and Hayden's farewell. The only outward things about it was a quick hug and Elen giving Hayden a kiss on the cheek.  _Does she usually say goodbye to everyone like that?_  Somehow Gwaine doubted that, but he refrained from mentioning it on the way home.

As soon as his mother finished scolding him and his father assured him that he wasn't really in any trouble, he went to see Everard, who was still being confined indoors and was not happy about it.

"Impressive, cousin," Gwaine said after hearing his cousin's personal account of the battle in which he had been wounded. "You've proved your Barclayn resilience!"

"You're saying I never have before?" Though crankier than usual, Everard laughed while he said it. So did Elwin, who was there as well. He was rarely far from his twin's side these days. Gwaine didn't mention the twins' regained comradeship, but it pleased him to see it.

Things returned to a state of normality, as if the whole debacle with the dragon had never happened. Except Elen was awake again, which Gwaine felt made everything better, somehow.  _Funny, I don't think we've been this close since we were young children…_

He was surprised that the sword-fighting lessons went as well as they did. Elen could be quite good if she kept working at it.

And she really did. She trained every day, for hours at a time, no matter how sore she would be afterwards. Gwaine almost wanted to tell her to slow down, to give herself time to master the basics before she hurt herself by pushing too hard. Yet he realized that she had to. Her greatest strength, her magic, had been torn from her, making her feel helpless. This was her way of gaining back control.

As Elen worked on swordsmanship, Everard recovered enough to be allowed out of the castle. It struck Gwaine as odd how much is mother restricted the young prince's activities; yes, he'd been seriously injured, but was Ela a magical healer or not? Still, Everard's recovery was coming along, and everyone could breathe easily again.

Gwaine found himself at several family dinners, the first truly complete ones for over a decade, since Elen could finally join them and even Gytha came once or twice. Despite outside threats of trouble in Deira and perhaps even distant war, the evenings when the Barclayns gathered as a family rather than an assemblage of titled courtiers were some of the best that Gwaine could remember in a very long time.

When the twins weren't pulling pranks on everyone else or Harlan wasn't regaling them with tales heard many times, Haralda and Aldwyn were having a shouting match over who had beaten more enemies or Hertha was begging Gwaine to "do a magic spell". Gwaine was reluctant to do any magic while surrounded by a lot of people, just in case, but he did mess around with the candles a few times, extinguishing the flames and reigniting them to his youngest cousin's delight.

The most tense moments were by far were whenever Harlan brought up marriage. Obviously he still wanted his eldest daughter married, and soon. Somehow he'd gotten wind of Haralda's scheme to marry someone he didn't approve of before he could marry her off to someone she didn't approve of.

"What unlucky fellows did you consider for this?" he roared one evening.

"It doesn't matter! I wouldn't tell you anyway!" she shrieked right back.

Gwaine leaned over and whispered to Elen, "Her first choice was Hayden Wyverndomitor, actually."

To his surprise, Elen didn't laugh along with him. Instead, she blushed as she hastily picked up her goblet and took a unnecessarily large swig of ale.

"I'm warning you, Harlan; she may be your daughter, not mine, but I have a feeling you'll never marry her off properly," Goddard said, earning a light shove from his wife and an outburst of giggles from Everard, Elwin, and Hertha. Harlan just spluttered at his brother for a few seconds.

Queen Aldora decided to redirect the conversation before dishes started to fly. "Perhaps you should see about a match for Gwaine, Goddard. He's certainly old enough."

Gwaine, still mulling over his sister's reaction to his earlier comment, choked on his slice of roast. "What…Father, you can't make me!"

Goddard laughed at him as Aldora went on, "There must be plenty of eligible young ladies in the court. You're not getting any younger."

"Neither's Haralda," Harlan growled, but everyone ignored him...except for Haralda, who glared.

Aldwyn, grinning, said, "I daresay it wouldn't be too hard for Gwaine to snag a wife… If I recall correctly, cousin, you were quite the flirt back before…Though you were barely old enough for it…"

"And you were so much older than me. I'll have you know that I was quite the ladies' man for a while…however, lately…let's just say it's hard to flirt with anyone when all the common women are terrified of me because of my title and all the noblewomen think I'm insane."

"Can't argue with that logic," Braeden murmured, provoking some very un-prince-like snorts from her husband.

The conversation went another direction as Harlan brought up, in jest, some suggestions for the twins' future brides, provoking groans from the two princes and laughs from almost everyone else. Gwaine chuckled along with the others at every dramatic reaction the twins gave, but his mind wandered elsewhere.  _I spoke the truth, though…Serious flirting with commoners is out of the question for me nowadays…all the noblewomen around my own age look at me askance…Except for Cleva. She stayed close after I returned to Bernicia…_

Remembering her was rather painful these days.  _One of the few people who stuck by me after I came back…and I pushed her away…I'm not even sure what I said to make her leave like she did…_

He was pulled away from his thoughts when Hertha began her nightly routine of asking him to do a magic trick.  _Merlin would be better at this sort of thing…when it comes to magic, he always is…_ Gwaine complied with Hertha's request anyway, making the doors to the dining room open and shut multiple times with a few whispered words. It alarmed the servants.

The next morning, while he and Elen were sparring, King Harlan came down to the training field. "Gwaine!" the king bellowed as the siblings stopped and turned to face him.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Gwaine said innocently, racking his brains to remember anything his uncle might want to disembowel him for. He glanced over at his sister; she shrugged.

"Is it true?" Harlan stalked closer, dark eyes glaring like daggers.

"Um…is it true that all the nobles here think I'm insane? I thought that was a given, really."

Harlan's glare turned into a blank look. "What? Never mind, what I meant was…Is it true that you escorted Arthur Pendragon's manservant to Camelot just a few weeks ago?" His normally loud voice went got louder with every word. Some trainee knights at the other end of the field turned to stare.

"How did you find out?" Gwaine demanded after a stunned pause.

"Ela finally confessed to going to Camelot…and taking Haralda with her…something about a dragon Wyverndomitor had in his house…That I don't care about, as long as it didn't eat anyone…And then you took that sorcerer-Dragonlord-servant back…"

_Huh. He must've already had his initial fit over the_   _news._   _Poor Mother._ "I escorted him back to his home village, in Escetir. Not Camelot." Beside him, Elen huffed.

"Hmph. Why?" Harlan snapped. "Why did you escort him? Just like that?"

"Because he is my friend. Simple." Gwaine met the king's piercing gaze straight on. "No ulterior motives, I promise. He helped us with the dragon; I think even you can understand that."

After a terrifying moment where he was sure he'd crossed the line, Gwaine felt relieved when his uncle only scoffed. "You're turning out like your father," the king said. Then, "Elen, give me your sword."

She complied, gave Gwaine's shoulder a quick squeeze, then walked over to where Everard was leaning on a spear rack. Apparently he'd arrived with Harlan. Gwaine looked away from his sister and cousin and back at his uncle. "Are you going to rip me to shreds for being secretive?"

Harlan laughed. "I wouldn't try out here, if I wanted to. Now, attack me."

_This is some kind of test_. Gwaine shrugged, and struck out with his weapon.

Harlan was a formidable opponent, there was no doubt about it. Gwaine hadn't actually sparred with him since he was a teenager, but the only difference he could see now was that the king had gotten a bit slower over the years. Using this to his advantage, Gwaine made a point to move in gradual circles around the king, never allowing himself to go on the defensive for long.

_This is just training. Doesn't matter if he's the king…or my uncle…this is just training…just another opponent…well, one I don't want dead..._

A few minutes passed before he saw the perfect opening. Dodging Harlan's defenses, he moved in close and quickly disarmed the older man with his usual maneuver.

Harlan didn't seem put out by his defeat; on the contrary, he seemed rather pleased. "You have improved over the years." 

"Thank you, Uncle."

"Ha!…If I were twenty years younger…" Harlan picked his sword up off the ground. "If there were to be another attack by a clan, would you join the soldiers sent out to repel them?"

_What kind of fool question is that?_   "Uncle, I would've done so any time that sort of thing's happened over the last couple years…if you had asked me."  _I didn't think you trusted me enough,_  he added silently.

"You would ride to war with your fellow Bernicians?"

_This conversation just gets stranger_ …"Of course I would. I'm a Barclayn; why wouldn't I be prepared to fight for the kingdom?"

Harlan gave him a long, calculating look. "That's what your father said." With that, the king turned and strode away across the training field back towards the castle, only halting to put the sword he held on a rack as he passed.

Elen and Everard came over to Gwaine from where they'd been watching. It took Gwaine a few moments to force himself to concentrate on whatever they were saying about the sparring match.  _What was that all about, exactly?_

The next day, the king summoned him to the council chambers and knighted him.

* * *

When Gwaine had become a knight of Camelot, his first banishment from that kingdom had been automatically lifted. His roving life had been at an end. He'd had a new purpose in life, however conflicted he might have been about it at times. And for the first time in years, he'd lived like the nobleman he was. He'd been so used to being a knight that he'd completely forgotten that he technically _wasn't_ one when he came back to Bernicia. He was just a lord; he had a title that came along with being the nephew of a king. He hadn't even considered the idea that his lack of Bernician knighthood might have made Harlan reluctant to send him out as a soldier.

Bernician knights didn't have much of a code, but there was some sort of silly tradition involved that made it unusual for any noble to go to battle unless they were knighted, or a prince...being one seemed to equal an automatic knighting...or a sorcerer, or a female, which explained why Haralda got away with going into half of the skirmishes that occurred on Bernician lands.  _Well, I'm not female, though at this point I could get away with being a sorcerer…but now it seems I'm a knight. Again._

Unlike when he'd become a knight of Camelot, there was no change in his living conditions whatsoever. Harlan didn't even ask him to train with the other knights. This was a relief, as Gwaine didn't get along with most of them. Instead he concentrated on working with his sister and the twins, as he had before; Everard was finally being allowed to use weapons again.

Gwaine found out, by accident why everyone...namely, his mother...had been so cautious about the young prince's recovery the very evening he was knighted. Aldwyn dragged him to the tavern with some of the other knights as a sort of impromptu celebration. Gwaine spent the evening trying not to give in and get drunk and keeping an eye on the increasingly inebriated Crown Prince.

At some point in a long, wandering conversation, Aldwyn blurted out, "Damn idiot, Everard…getting himself impaled…should've told him to turn and run when the fighting got fierce…I thought he was dead for a while…According to Aunt Ela, he nearly ended up like Uncle Goddard…"

Gwaine stiffened, an icy feeling taking up residence in his stomach. "Crippled for life, you mean."

Aldwyn's drunken mind had already grasped upon another subject.

Overall, however, being a knight of Bernicia made no difference on Gwaine's life, other than bringing home the realization that if there did end up being a war with Amata...which seemed more and more likely every time a messenger came from Deira; the number of raids were increasing in number and size...he himself would be going into full-fledged battles.

_Well, it's not as if I haven't before._

Another week or so passed. Rumors drifted up from the south about a botched peace treaty between Amata and Camelot. Gwaine wondered if everyone was all right, and if he could possibly contact Merlin. He didn't. The raids on Deira did not cease. Everyone who knew of the constant threat of war showed signs of stress in different ways. Aldwyn spent long hours on the training field with his knights. Harlan yelled at whoever was around even more than usual. Haralda scowled at anyone who spoke to her. Ela took to scolding Gwaine whenever she caught him using magic for "trival tricks". Elen trained harder than ever, nearly hurting herself multiple times. Goddard collapsed at a council session after a sleepless night spent speaking with Harlan and a envoy from Deira. A few panic-filled hours passed before it became clear that the ageing prince had no intention of dying just yet. The concern remained after the panic faded.

_War this and war that. I wish that golden dragon would just go hunt down Sarrum and eat him. Maybe this would all be over without him to cause trouble, and then no one would have to go to battle at all._

And Lady Cleva came back to Bernicia.

She arrived one evening with a couple couriers from Axton bearing messages for Harlan. She didn't give an explanation for her sudden return. Gwaine had spent months trying not to think about her. Once she was back, he couldn't keep trying.

She had become quiet, retreated to the silent isolation she'd often been caught in as a child, back when she still stammered and was looked down upon as an "outsider". She had friends among the other courtiers now, and for the most part they welcomed her back after her months-long absence. But she remained distant, from everyone. Most of all, she avoided Gwaine like poison.

Still not able to recall what it was he had said to her last Samhain, Gwaine attempted to talk to her, to understand what he had done to drive her way, to discover if it really was him who had caused her prolonged stay in the neighboring kingdom. She refused to speak with him. If they happened to pass each other in a corridor, she looked straight through him like he wasn't there. Only a few days of this was enough to drive Gwaine almost raving mad.

_What did I say, Cleva? What did I do? I remember we fought…but what could I have said to make you so angry with me, even months later?_

He had to know. It ate at him every other hour of the day, and sometimes during the night. He started having trouble sleeping, began to lose concentration on the training field.

_Maybe I should ask for help…a go-between, so to speak…but who?_

The kingdom was headed for war, and he couldn't even fix one broken friendship.


	28. Chapter 27

Dusk had fallen over Camelot.

He was shaking as he approached the cell door, his long red cloak granting him passage by the guards. They only nodded in his direction, engrossed in their dice game.

She saw him, her eyes widening as she rose and moved towards the front of the cell. "Did your king send you to speak with me?"

Her tone was haughty, but he could tell it was for the benefit of the guards behind him. Playing along, he said, "Yes." He swallowed, choosing his words carefully, "He believes that there were other conspirators involved in the assassination attempt, and wishes to know who they are." Stepping up close to the metal bars that separated them, he spoke to her mentally.  _The king may or may not suspect, I don't know, but I certainly do._

Lifting her chin, she said aloud, "If there were anyone else, I still would not speak."  _Mordred, what are you doing here?_

"He may grant you some clemency if you reveal a larger plot. If there is one."  _It's complicated. What are_ you _doing here, Kara?_

_Playing my part in the war against the Pendragon._  "Neither you nor your king nor anyone else would make me speak. You saw who was behind this. I only played my part." She echoed her earlier, internal words.

_Arthur…he is not entirely…he is not that terrible._  "You have nothing to lose."  _Kara, are you working for Morgana?_

Kara's blue eyes flashed in shock, but her voice remained steady. "I have no regrets."  _How did you know?_

_I guessed_. "You are not afraid to die?" Mordred's head was beginning to ache.  _Kara, Morgana is evil._

_She only wants what is rightfully hers. And justice for our kind._  "Why should I be afraid?"

"The king will take no pleasure in killing you."  _I have seen Morgana, only months ago. She is insane, Kara, filled with hate. Her heart is of stone. She cares not who lives or dies, as long as she gets what she wants._

_And the Pendragon is different?_ "It matters not what he will or will not get pleasure from. I die tomorrow, at dawn. My fate is already decided." Her voice shook almost imperceptibly.

She  _was_ afraid. But she was so stubborn. _Yes…No…Kara, please listen to reason._  By the expression on her face, he knew she sensed the desperation in his plea. "Ask the king for mercy. Admit you were wrong. You may be spared."  _Kara, please._

Her face went cold.  _You know how much I care for you, Mordred, and I would never wish to hurt you, but…_ "I cannot do that."

He looked down, his fingers clenching around the cold metal bars of the cell. "Then I am sorry."  _I'm going to speak with the king_. He turned away, struggling to hold his composure.

_Mordred…wait. The manservant, the one with magic…he is powerful, I can sense it…_

_He is Emrys_. Mordred heard Kara's soft, sharp intake of breath behind him. _He only serves Arthur. His reasons are his own._

_But…_ Kara's voice in his head faded to nothing as he strode away, forcing himself not to look back.

Minutes later he had arrived at the royal chambers, palms sweaty and breathing ragged with apprehension. His knock was answered by the king's voice bidding him to come in. Entering, the young knight found Arthur sitting at the table with Guinevere standing behind him, massaging his shoulders. She stopped as the king stood and said, "Sir Mordred! Is something wrong?"

The open concern in his voice hit Mordred like a physical blow, but he managed to keep his expression calm. "I must speak with you on…on a personal matter."

A movement at the other end of the room caught his eye. Merlin emerged from behind the royal bed, doubtless having been attending to his regular nightly duties. His eyes met Mordred's, his cerulean gaze containing blatant suspicion. Mordred looked away.

"Do you need to speak with me in private, Mordred? We could go out into the hall…" Arthur glanced at his wife. 

"No, I…"  _Guinevere is a fair, kind woman. Perhaps…perhaps having her here will help Kara somehow_. "I…I have no objection to our present company hearing what I have to say." _Merlin will listen no matter what._

The king nodded. "Then what is the problem, Mordred?"

"You seem very worried," the queen said.

Once again, their obvious concern and kindness nearly broke Mordred's resolve. Knowing he was too far in to stop now, he took a deep breath and said, "The woman…the girl, Kara…the one who is to be executed…I…She's…I know her."

Merlin look unsurprised. _He'd already known_. The king and queen seemed shocked yet curious.

Arthur recovered first. "Mordred, when you say you know her…what exactly do you mean?"

The words began to pour out of Mordred's mouth before he could even think of halting them. "I mean to say that I knew her as a child…and after…we were close, very close…" His eyes stung and he blinked rapidly to clear them. "I know what she did was wrong, I understand her crimes…She's not a bad person, Arthur, I swear, she has a good heart…" Unable to look at the king any longer, Mordred turned his gaze Guinevere. "Kara is…is very important to me…Please, I know she wouldn't mean to do such terrible things…she is young, someone must've taken advantage of her somehow…Lift the death penalty, please…I can make her see sense, make her see the error of her ways…" A growing tightness in his throat stopped his words.

This time, it was the queen who broke the brief silence. "Mordred, you care for this girl? You believe she is not truly wicked?"

"There cannot be that much question," Arthur interrupted. "You saw her in the council chambers, Mordred. She showed no remorse for her part in the assassination attempt. I had no choice but to condemn her to death."

His wife sent him a sharp look. "You believe she was manipulated into her role? By whom?"

Mordred managed to say, "I'm not sure…the last time I saw Kara, she was nothing like this…It reminds me of Morgana, perhaps she…"

"But Kara and the man with her were working with Sarrum and his assassin," Arthur said with a frown. "And Sarrum made no secret of holding Morgana prisoner. He openly despises magic; why would he ally himself with a powerful sorceress like my half-sister?"

Mordred, still hesitant to meet the king and queen's gazes, glimpsed a very strange expression cross Merlin's face. It was only there for a moment, yet Mordred was certain he had seen it.

_I would be more interested in learning what it was about if it weren't for Kara…But that man, he was a sorcerer…but I only overheard Merlin telling Gaius…I don't think he told anyone else…Does it even matter?_  "Arthur, please," Mordred whispered, forcing himself to look at the king. "Let me speak with her, convince her she's wrong…give her a second chance. I'm begging you." He hated how his voice cracked as he spoke the last three words.

A long silence followed, during which Arthur and Gwen exchanged a prolonged look that Mordred didn't understand and Merlin continued tidying up the room, his expression stony.

"You truly care about this girl," Arthur finally stated.

Mordred couldn't stop the tears that began leaking from his eyes. "Please…spare her. If my loyalty has meant anything to you, Arthur, spare her life for me."

Arthur glanced at his wife, who appeared torn between sympathy and worry. Then the king looked around at Merlin, who gave the smallest jerk of the head.

Arthur turned back again. "Mordred," he said, "I…I can see how much this girl means to you. But I have seen her anger, her hatred…Whatever the circumstances, however she may have been when you knew her last…She is a threat to Camelot, Mordred, not just to me but everyone under my protection." He stepped forward and placed a hand on Mordred's shoulder. "You are a loyal knight, a loyal friend. I don't want to lose your trust or friendship. But I cannot rescind my judgment."

Mordred's chest hitched as he heard the awful finality in the king's words. He looked to the queen, whose dark eyes held pity but whose jaw was firmly set. She was on the side of her husband, no matter how sorry she felt for the young couple torn apart by circumstance. Finally, Mordred's eyes rested again on Merlin, whose face remained blank, betraying nothing.

"Sire. My lady," Mordred choked out, then he walked slowly from the room, his head and throat hurting, but his heart aching more.

_I can't let her die…I can't let her die…I will not let her die…_

He could not depend on Arthur, or Guinevere, or even Merlin.

He had but one choice left.

* * *

Merlin slipped through the darkened halls of Camelot, keeping to the shadows.

Gwen and Arthur had discussed at length, and within his hearing, if anything should be done about Kara and Mordred. The queen had gone back and forth with the idea of giving Kara another chance. She even asked Merlin for his opinion, to which he didn't give a clear answer.

_Kara is an enemy of Camelot…whether she was working with just Sarrum or someone else, like Morgana…she has made her beliefs clear. It is safer that she should die. But if she is killed…Mordred will never forgive Arthur…_

The king had not made up his mind by the time he and his wife went to bed and Merlin left. Gaius had been tireder than usual and had gone to bed almost as soon as Merlin arrived at their chambers, so he hadn't gotten the chance to speak with his mentor about it.

_If Kara lives…perhaps Mordred will never turn against Arthur…But can he really change her mind? She would just bide her time…I'm lucky she hasn't ousted me yet…maybe Mordred said something…_

Not knowing the king's final decision and feeling either way it would be the wrong choice, Merlin was unable to sleep. It didn't take long for him to become convinced that Mordred was going to break Kara free and attempt to escape.Which was why Merlin was currently headed for the dungeons. _I honestly don't want him hurt…but I've got to stop him…_

He was too late. The two guards were already slumped on the floor; one had just been stabbed by Kara, liberated from her cell and holding a bloody dagger in one fist. Mordred was standing back, staring at her, appearing horrified, when Merlin arrived.

"You!" Kara spat as the manservant skidded to a halt at the foot of the stairs. "Traitor!"

Merlin ignored her, looking instead to her companion. "Think about what you're doing, Mordred."

"I have, Merlin." Mordred's expression became one of hardened resolve. "This is the only way. I must save her. Would you not do the same, if the woman you loved were in the same place?"

The words wrenched Merlin's heart, all but breaking his own determination.  _I nearly did, once. For a different druid girl_. "Mordred, please. There's much more at stake here than you know."

Mordred and Kara exchanged glances, and Merlin sensed that they were communicating telepathically. Then the young knight looked back to the warlock. "I'm sorry, Merlin."

Merlin had no time to react before Mordred's eyes flashed gold and he was sent hurtling into the nearest wall.

When he awoke the next morning to a concerned Gaius and a nasty concussion, he learned that Mordred and Kara were gone without a trace.

* * *

"Elen, you do realize that beating your brother around the ribcage is a rather bad idea when he could get called to war any day?" Ela's voice was exasperated as she examined Gwaine's bruises. They had chosen to go to her in her chambers rather than to the physician Norvin after a violent training session.

"It's his fault for letting me win," Elen said. "Besides, you said yourself that it just looks like some bad bruising."

"To be fair, I had no idea you were going to come at me like a mad woman the moment I backed off," said Gwaine. "I knew it was a bad idea to let you try using a club…"

His sister ignored him. "He'll be fine in a day or two."

"So now you are the healer?" Seated in a corner, Goddard looked up from the book he was perusing, his eyebrows raised. Ela made a disapproving noise.

Gwaine stifled a laugh, then winced as his mother prodded him in the side. "Mother, is that really necessary?"

"I'm just making sure that it is only bruises. I can't heal what I don't know about and I have no intention of sending you off to battle damaged."

"You needn't be so worried. King Harlan thinks I'm insane, so he'll probably just leave me here to guard the city and all the helpless women." He grinned slyly in Elen's direction.

"Don't let Haralda hear you say that. What I just did to you will be like a soft slap compared to her idea of smacking sense into you."

"Your uncle is the insane one, Gwaine, not you, but he's not that stupid. If he rides off to war, you'll be going with him." Ela muttered a spell under her breath, waited several moments as the bruises faded, then stepped back. "All done."

As Gwaine stood and put on his shirt, Goddard took the conversation off battles and such by saying, "I haven't seen you talking to Lady Cleva lately, Gwaine. I was under the impression that you two were friends."

Gwaine felt rather like a young child being scolded for not being nice. "She's been avoiding me, not the other way around." he said quickly. _Too quickly, damn it._  He groaned internally. There were going to be questions now.

"She hasn't been particularly friendly with anyone since she got back," Elen said. "Where you two close after you came back to Bernicia, Gwaine?"

He didn't figure out how to answer soon enough, so his mother answered for him. "Actually, Elen, they were." He found himself pinned under his mother's gaze for the second time that day. "Cleva was with him and the princes on part of the journey from Camelot, so she…adjusted better, I'd say. And now you say she's distancing herself?"

"It's not important," Gwaine said. "We had a fight before she went to Strathclyde, all right? She's just still fussing over that.  _Women_."

"You're the one being fussy," Elen said waspishly. "Maybe you should try to make amends…you've been so moody lately, whenever you're not sparring with me or using magic to make Hertha laugh. Making things right with Cleva might cheer you up a bit."

"I've been  _trying_  to do so, Elen, but it's harder than you make it sound," Gwaine snapped. "And speaking of moody…you've been that way, too." Recalling something, he added, "Maybe you should go visit Hayden again; _he_ certainly seems to make you happy."

Turning pink, Elen demanded, "What makes you say that?"

"He must've rubbed off well to prevent you from knocking me silly when I got back. And he makes you laugh."

"So do the twins, and you're not suggesting that I spend more time with them!"

"Yeah, but when the twins are brought up in conversation you don't either get flustered or start staring off into the distance!"

"You know what…" Elen stopped as both brother and sister remembered that that their parents were in the room with them.

Goddard broke the ensuing awkward silence. "Well, that was…interesting." He glanced at his wife, who shrugged. "Please, do continue. What is it you were about to say, Elen?"

In the pause that followed, Gwaine reflected that he'd never seen his sister go quite that shade of red before. He couldn't resist voicing the thought that had occurred to him many times recently. "You  _fancy_  him, don't you?"

It was the exact wrong thing to say. Elen's face went from red to white almost instantly as her expression seemed to slam shut. "I don't fancy anyone," she snarled, her cold gaze threatening to skewer him. "I can't and I never will. I…" She shuddered, her eyes now brimming with terror. Without another word, she turned and ran from the room. Ela went after her without a word, leaving Gwaine and his father alone, the latter inscrutable and the former wishing that he could go back a day and not make a mess of things.  _Or maybe I could go back twelve years…_

He looked over at his father. "I, uh, I'd better get back to the training field…I promised the twins, and since I'm not in pain anymore…" He walked to the door, only to be halted by his father's voice.

"Give her time, Gwaine. You did before."

Gwaine hesitated. "I'll…I'll try."

"Good. We will also. And, Gwaine?"

"Yes?"

"You don't really remember what happened between you and Cleva, do you?"

"Why do you say that?"

"The last time I saw you two together, it was last Samhain. And you were drunk."

"So?" Gwaine turned to stare at Goddard. "What are you trying to say, Father?"

The older man sighed. "Nothing, Gwaine. I just hope you didn't do something you'll truly live to regret."

"I'm already regretting it." Gwaine replied...then, suddenly, he understood what his father was getting at and felt ill. He hadn't considered... _that_  before. "I…I didn't. I've been in...similar positions enough times…while I was gone…I…I'm pretty sure I would've realized after the fact…" He trailed off, still feeling sick.  _If I did…oh, lord, no. I'll take any hateful thing I said over that. Anything but that._  "I guess...I guess I  _have_  to talk to her."  _I have to know._

"See that you do," was all Goddard had to say in response.

* * *

_I hate him._

Cleva kept telling herself that.

_I hate him, I hate him, I hate him._

More than one man had flirted with her, propositioned to her. She'd flirted, but never accepted any serious advances. While there were some good men in Strathclyde, none suited her tastes.

She had almost convinced herself that the reason she returned to Bernicia was because of her mother's increasingly morose letters. In truth, she and her mother did not spend much time together as much as Lady Candace liked to keep her only living child close.

Cleva loved her mother. But she knew, deep down, that it wasn't those mournful letters that drew her back. She also knew that it hurt _him_ every time she walked by without acknowledging his presence.  _It's not fair. He wronged me, not the other way around._

Nothing that had happened between them would be cause for scandal. Perhaps if he'd been more amiable in his intoxication that time…but he'd been angry. She supposed she ought to be grateful that he had behaved the way he did.  _If he'd acted differently…_

She'd almost hoped for it; she hated to admit that, but it was the truth. However, she knew well enough that things probably would have been much, much worse for them both if it what could have happened  _had_  happened that night. Yet, under those circumstances, she might feel less betrayed. She knew herself well enough to realize that.

Now, months later, she was still angry; angry over the what-ifs and her broken dreams alike.

_I hate him._

Only, she didn't.


	29. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so here's the chapter I dubbed "the awkward hallway conversations chapter" the first time around.

"I should've gone to Arthur."

"Merlin…"

"Why did I go after him myself? Why didn't I tell the king what Mordred was planning so they could be stopped?"

" _Merlin…_ "

"Or I just should have acted faster and stopped them both…Mordred took me by surprise…I shouldn't have been so soft on them…"

" _Merlin!_ " Gaius shouted. Once the warlock had calmed down, the physician continued, "Stop this. What's done is done. Besides, Mordred and Kara might have hurt and killed more people than those two guards had they met more resistance during their escape. You're lucky they didn't kill you. Now stop pacing and sit down before you collapse."

"I'm not going to collapse," Merlin said, but he sat down at the table in the physician's quarters and allowed Gaius to examine his head. It still hurt from the collision with the dungeon wall, though that had occurred the day before last. "Can't I go back to work, Gaius?"  _Anything to stop thinking about Mordred. And that girl._

He'd never find them now. He had failed. He couldn't see a chance at reconciliation between Arthur and Mordred.  _They'll run straight to Morgana. The king's fate is sealed._

He almost didn't hear Gaius say, "Well, perhaps you could assume some of your duties by this evening…"

_The Diamair said that Arthur's bane was himself. I suppose he is; his own stubbornness…and my stupidity….will be the death of him._

"Merlin, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, Gaius." the warlock said tiredly.

Later, when he served dinner to the king and queen, he barely acknowledged their concerned questions about his injury.  _I don't deserve their worry. I've failed them both._

_I've failed Camelot._

* * *

"Haralda, I need to ask a favor." Gwaine said after he'd managed to take his cousin by surprise and drag her into a dark corner of a castle hallway.

"I'm busy," the armor-clad princess said. "You and  _your sorcerer-servant friend_  and your  _dragging people into alcoves_ …"

Gwaine decided that he had no desire to know what she was talking about and said, "Sure you're busy. Busy throwing things at the poor foot soldiers while they're training outside the walls and scolding them if they don't duck fast enough. How is that going to help them?"

"My father doesn't disapprove."

"So it's something you and him actually agree on. That still doesn't make it _helpful_."

After growling a few choice swear words, she said, "Fine, what is it you need so damn badly?"

"Order Lady Cleva into a room that I can corner her in." Gwaine knew how bad that sounded and added, "Don't even go there, Haralda. I just want to talk with her."

"Whatever. If you need someone to order her around just do it yourself. You outrank her, you know."

"She won't listen to me. And I can't ask anyone else…she wouldn't take the twins seriously, my sister and Aldwyn would ask too many questions, and I don't want to bother our respective parents… _especially_ Harlan; he broke another three chairs this morning alone…So can you do it?"

"What's in it for me?" 

"The king said that he would leave you behind if…when we go to war?"

"Yes." Haralda swore again. "Says I'd be 'useful' here…useful, my arse; he just doesn't trust me…"

"I'll try to make sure you come with us."

"And how exactly will you accomplish that?"

"I'll ask my father to ask your father to let you travel with the army."

"Huh. That might actually work. It'll save me the trouble of sneaking along. Father listens to Uncle Goddard…usually…"

"So will you catch Cleva for me?" 

Haralda narrowed her eyes at him, then said, "Yes. Wait here."

She strode off, leaving Gwaine thinking,  _That was…_ easier _than I expected…_

The curly-haired princess returned several minutes later, looking pleased. "Done. You'll speak to your father."

"Yes, I will tonight. Where is she?" Getting suspicious, Gwaine said sharply, "What did you do, Haralda?"

"I locked her in my chambers."

" _What?_ I didn't ask you to lock her up like a prisoner!"

"My chambers are not a dungeon." Haralda scoffed, producing a rusty key and handing it to him. "Now, you go chat with your darling Cleva, and I'll go down and 'throw things at the poor foot soldiers'." She turned and marched off, saying over her shoulder, "Be finished in my room by the time I come back."

_You are a difficult woman, Haralda Barclayn_. But her methods of cornering people worked well. Gwaine hurried to her chambers, almost certain that Cleva would start screaming for help before long, princess's orders be damned.  _She's no fool. She'll know I'm behind this…if Haralda didn't just tell her straight out._ _No way in hell I'm putting this off any longer, anyway._

* * *

Hayden had been let into the royal castle without much fuss, but he'd gotten lost after that. His sense of direction was quite good…just not inside large stone buildings. So he'd been relieved when he'd recognized Gwaine's voice around a corner, yet had soon given up on looking for help from that source. The Barclyan had been engaged in an intense conversation with Lady Cleva. It had taken but a few moments for Hayden to realize that said conversation…or shouting match, rather…was not one he should be listening in on. He backtracked down the hallway he was in and out of earshot of the two…friends.  _Though it sounds as if they might be something more eventually_.

Hayden couldn't say he was surprised. Gwaine's reticence about Cleva's prolonged stay in Strathclyde had been enough to arouse suspicions.  _If they do have feelings for each other, as it seems, then they've both been idiots about it._ Hayden then reflected that he was being an idiot, too. Why was he here again?

_Because I want to see Elen._

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her since their last meeting. Usually, even with people he could tolerate...Gwaine included...he preferred that they didn't stay too long. Elen was different. Despite her abruptness, her temper, he liked her company. He'd caught himself wishing that she could have stayed longer during her last visit.

She fascinated him. And for that same reason his calm, rational self had deserted him and sent him on this fool's errand. He wasn't planning to stay in the city long…the sheer number of people about had already driven him to distraction. But he wanted to see Elen.

_I suppose I should've asked for directions_ , he mused as the shadows of mid-afternoon lengthened across the castle halls.

He was snapped out of his reverie when someone collided with him, causing him to lose his balance and sit down hard on the stone floor.

"Sorry!" Princess Hertha, whom Hayden knew by sight, bounced up from where she'd fallen across the hallway from him. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Hertha!" One of the twin princes…Elwin, Hayden realized…came around the nearest corner. "Running ahead like that is hardly helpful if you wanted to talk…Hayden? What are you doing here?"

Hayden pushed himself to his feet, his explanation cut off by Hertha's excited exclamation, "You're the Wyverndomitor!"

"Yes, I am." Hayden inclined his head. "Your Highness."

"Oh, don't bother with that; she's vain enough already." Elwin ruffled his sister's curls. "You didn't say what…"

"I'm not planning on staying long." 

"You can stay as long as you like! You can stay in one of the guest rooms…I'm sure Father won't mind…actually, we don't even need to tell him…he's a bit on edge these days…"

"Or I could just stay at the inn…I left the horse I borrowed from the village there…"

"Can you ride a wyvern?" Hertha piped up.

Momentarily taken aback, Hayden said, "I've never tried. Never thought about it."  _Though perhaps when I was a very small child…_

"Why not?"

"Because it would most likely entail a quick and painful death, Hertha." Hayden spun around to find Elen approaching them, her fair hair hanging loose for once, rather than being held in a braid. She seemed amused. "That's why you don't ride scaly creatures with rows of razor-sharp teeth. And your mother is looking for you."

Hertha let out a dramatic sigh. "Does she want me to go right now?"

"I'm assuming yes."

The young princess sighed again before setting off down the corridor. "Bye, Wyverndomitor!" she shouted as she went.

The brief silence that followed was broken when Elen said, "Elwin, do you have somewhere to be?"

"Well, not really, but…" He shrank under the glare his cousin leveled at him. "I'll…I'll go see what Everard's up to."

Once he'd left, Elen turned to Hayden. "You're an unexpected visitor. I don't know if…Have you ever come to the city before?"

"Years ago," Hayden replied. The way her brown eyes were narrowed at him made him nervous.  _I'd say she's curious, but she almost looks angry…or scared…_

"Are you staying in the castle or…" 

"I was planning on the inn in the town…it's just for one night."

"What about your wyverns? I didn't think you leave all of them alone much…"

"I don't. Flyta said she'd keep an eye on them this time."

"That's…interesting. Can she handle them?"

"I think so."

Another pause ensued before Elen asked, "What are you doing here, anyway? Did you want to see Gwaine? I think I saw him earlier…"

"I came to see you." 

She paled visibly. Swallowing, she said, "That's what I was afraid of."

He didn't respond, waiting for her to continue.

"Hayden…I…You've been so kind to me…I cannot thank you enough for your consideration towards me, when I kept invading your privacy. But if I've given you any wrong ideas…if I've been 'leading you on', so to speak I apologize." She stopped, biting her lip.

Hayden allowed a few moments to pass before he said, "Who told you to say that to me, Elen?"

She flushed, her expression going from composed to furious in an instant. "Excuse me?"

"I've gotten to know you as of late, Elen, and you do not talk like that. Someone gave you those words. I'm asking you who."

Her gaze bored into his. "My mother," she ground out.

That surprised him.  _I'd think Lady Ela would be more sympathetic…No, that's not it. She's being protective, with very good reason. That isn't the problem._ "You're not the sort to let your mother speak for you. You're too stubborn for that."

Elen opened her mouth, then closed it again. Finally, she said, "My brother…he said something the other day…said that I 'fancied' you."

He felt his heartbeat quicken. "Do you?" he asked.

"I…" She looked down. "Hayden, you know me, what…what I've been through. It's not that I don't…but I'm afraid I couldn't…" Her words halted with a choking sound.

_Tough as steel, but fragile. A beautiful contradiction_. He stepped closer to her, ready to back up the moment she gave a sign. "Elen, be honest with me like you know you can. Do you believe I would ever force you into anything?"

"Besides making me chop firewood?" She looked up again with a soft noise of amusement. Then, with no hesitation, she said, "No."

_I had to make her understand._   _She does._ Nodding, he said, "Exactly." He turned and began to walk away, almost forgetting his lack of direction through the castle. "I'll be at the inn; I'm going home tomorrow."

"Hayden, wait." He stopped as she caught up to him, expecting her to offer him a room in the castle as Elwin had. She didn't; she didn't say anything. Instead, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

It was gentle, chaste, and lasted all of two seconds only to be broken by the sound of clanging bells.

* * *

Gwaine had been close to banging his head against a wall even before the warning bells started ringing.

_I truly am the biggest fool to walk the earth._

How had he not seen this coming? His relief at knowing that his worst fear had not occurred was overcome by his intense frustration with himself. And he was usually so perceptive when it came to women, too.

_Just not this time._

He had confronted Cleva in Haralda's chambers. Her initial resistance to speaking openly to him quickly crumbled as she lost her temper. When she finally blurted out exactly what had happened last Samhain, he didn't blame her for her fury.

_"Cleva, what did you say to me last Samhain that I responded badly to?"_

_"I said it doesn't matter!"_

_"Clearly it does, so would you just bloody well tell me before I have to command you to?"_

_"You…Fine. I'll say it. Gwaine, you damn noble fool, I'm madly in love with you. There. Now go ahead and laugh at me like you did then."_

This revelation had been followed by the raven-haired lady storming out of the room. He'd managed to stop her in the hall outside, whereupon they had started shouting at each other again.

They had ended up laughing, hysterically. The entire situation had begun to look ludicrous in hindsight.

_"I was drunk! I barely remember that night at all, let alone remember you saying you were in love with me or laughing at you…_

_"I…I thought you'd stopped drinking!"_

_"I may have had a relapse of sorts! Couldn't you tell I was drunk?"_

_"I wasn't thinking straight, all right!"_

_"Well, that made two of us!"_

It had ended with him telling her he was sorry for his insensitivity, her saying she forgave him for getting drunk but not for being an idiot afterwards, and both of them avoiding the real issue which had caused this mess in the first place. Cleva had claimed fatigue from horse riding earlier, and Gwaine had let her go without more than a quick confirmation that they still were friends, despite everything.

However, if what she had said to him last Samhain was still true, as he assumed it was… _She wanted to ask me what my real feelings towards her were…are, I could see that, but she decided not to. Somewhere in the laughing fit she must've lost her nerve._ Once again, he couldn't blame her.

Every passing minute made him feel more guilty.  _I shouldn't have let her hurry off before we cleared things up further…_ Though how that would have worked out was a complete mystery to him. He was so confused right now he didn't know what he did or did not feel for Lady Cleva.  _At least I didn't harm her, though I may or may not have broken her heart…_

Having women tell him they were in love with him was not exactly a new experience for Gwaine. Often it had been when neither he nor the woman in question were sober and it had never meant anything. One of his oldest friends saying it to him was a completely different matter.

_Why is the one woman unrelated to me that I haven't tried to flirt with the one who apparently wants the most from me?_

He had far less than sufficient time to work anything out in his mind before the warning bells starting clanging.

_As if this afternoon couldn't get any more insane…_

* * *

The council chambers were in absolute chaos when Everard reached them. Knights, counselors, and other members of the court milled about, all talking, their voices nearly deafening in the confined space.

_Several of the council members look panicked_ , Everard observed. Almost colliding with Elwin at the door, he asked, "Do you have any idea…?"  
"None." Elwin's face was pale as the twins entered the crowded room together. Pushing their way to the front of the room, they stopped next to one of the tables closest to the throne, observing the chaos. "There's Hayden. Elen brought him with her."

Everard frowned upon hearing his brother's whisper. "What? Hayden? Where?"

Elwin pointed across the room, where Lady Elen was positioned half behind a worn pillar. Sure enough, Hayden was standing beside her. "When did he get here?" Everard asked.

"Not long ago, an hour or two, maybe? He didn't say why he was here…"

"You spoke to him?"

"Briefly. Then Cousin Elen showed up and wanted to talk to him alone, so…"

Everard was prevented from responding to that by King Harlan's entrance through a side door and the subsequent shushing of the assembled crowd. Aldwyn and Goddard followed him; the older prince leaned heavily on the back of the throne as the king faced the people within the room. The bells stopped ringing in the distance. When Harlan did not speak right away, a few whispers broke out among a group of young knights near the back of the room. " _Silence!_ " roared Aldwyn from where he stood next to his father, his voice making everyone jump.

The following quiet did not last long. Harlan's booming voice rang out.  "We have received news from Deira. We are now at war with Amata."

_War_. So it was finally happening. Everard felt sick and excited all at once.

He felt Elwin's hand grip his arm; he could sense his twin's panic. "Don't worry," he said.

But as Harlan began to elaborate on a general plan of action, Everard's wandering gaze found Gwaine across the room. Something about the concerned look his cousin gave him reminded Everard painfully his last battle experience.

_"Don't worry"? Who the hell am I kidding?_

* * *

Mordred didn't know exactly how Kara found Morgana's encampment so rapidly and he didn't really care.

So far on the journey he had learned that Morgana had allied herself with the charismatic outlaw sorcerer known as "The Cunning One" and together they had masterminded the attempted assassination of Arthur. The plan had been to provoke war between Camelot and Amata, in an attempt to weaken both kingdoms if not destroy at least one of them. Alvarr and Morgana would, of course, add their fighters to Sarrum's so that Camelot's defeat would be more certain. Later, Amata would also be taken over, or such was the plan. According to Kara, Morgana was keeping her involvement in the planned war secret because of her previous run-in with Sarrum and saw the man's army as a tool to regain "her" throne. The arrogant king and his country were to be dealt with after all else was settled in Camelot.

Kara sounded excited as she spoke of battle plans and strategies, of the sorcerers… some powerful, some not…who had joined Morgana, of the defeat of the Pendragon and the time of freedom and magic that would follow. Mordred, however, found he could not share her excitement.

He loved Kara, though it pained him to see her so bloodthirsty and vicious. His budding hatred for Arthur and his kind was very present, yet his fear of what Morgana had become filled his mind. He was angry at Merlin for his actions, but he felt almost sick as he remembered the warlock's body slamming into the stone wall and falling with a dull thud. He would smile when Kara spoke of the future, he would feign anticipation of the battles and victories to come, but he felt afraid. As they lay together, she fast asleep in his arms, he would look to the star-strewn sky and wonder if he'd made the right choice after all.

Then he would imagine her dangling from the hangman's rope, gone forever because he hadn't helped her. His grip on her would tighten.  _It was worth it. I had to save her. Arthur went too far. I was wrong about him. I had to save Kara._

His resolve strengthened as their journey continued...only to crumble again when they finally stood before Morgana and her ally Alvarr.

"My old friend. You nearly killed me last time we met," the witch sneered, her cold eyes roving over him. "Why did you bring him here, Kara?"

Kara proceeded to tell the whole story of the failed assassination attempt, her capture, and her friendship with Mordred and how he had freed her.

"So, your loyalty to Kara was stronger than your loyalty to my half-brother," Morgana drawled as Kara's story came to a close. The High Priestess laughed softly, chillingly. "In this case, it seems love conquers all, doesn't it, Alvarr?"

Alvarr muttered something and turned away. Morgana smirked and looked to Mordred. "Welcome back, Mordred. Your help will be most… _appreciated_."

_She does not trust me. I do not blame her. But she has not failed_ my _trust, as Arthur did._

Kara gripped Mordred's hand so tightly it hurt. "We will not disappoint you, my lady."

"See that you don't." Morgana turned away from them, making a gesture of dismissal.

"My lady…" Kara said. "There is something we did not tell you yet. Something you may find invaluable."

Mordred's heart started to pound as Morgana turned back, looking faintly interested.  _Wait, Kara_ …Mordred thought.

_She needs to know, Mordred_. "My lady, you spoke to me once of the sorcerer called Emrys, of how you sought his true identity."

Morgana's eyes widened. "Yes? Have you discovered something?"

Kara nodded, smiling, as the thudding of Mordred's heart threatened to drown out her next words. "I… _We_  discovered his true name."

From his position several yards away, Alvarr tensed visibly, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the two young druids.

"Tell me." The words were whispered from white lips.

"He's a mere manservant," said Kara. "Or pretends to be. His name is Merlin."

Mordred's limbs turned to ice with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and regret, and he shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, Morgana was standing frozen, her gaze blank as a choked gasp sounded in her throat. No longer white, she turned grey, grey as the stone that seemingly made up her heart. The world had clearly tilted…no, _turned upside-down_ …for her in the space of a single word. Nothing would ever be the same again...not for Morgana, not for Merlin, not for anyone.

Certainly not for Mordred.

_There's no turning back now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, yeah, and Morgana learns who Emrys is. :p


	30. Chapter 29

Preparations were the most irritating part of going to war. After the initial announcement, Gwaine spent the entirety of the next day helping to oversee the packing of weapons and supplies, and cursed his way through it. He'd more or less been resigned to this...the war...as had everyone else. However, now that war was actually upon them…It was going to be a mess and he hated it.

_I highly doubt Uncle Harlan will try to solve this conflict with a one-on-one fight to the death, like Arthur would. Like Arthur has._

It really wasn't _that_ bad of an idea; it had worked a couple years ago, and peace had been forged between Caerleon and Camelot. But then, the leaders involved had been Arthur Pendragon with his noble ideals and Queen Annis, who Gwaine had to admit was a reasonable person. It was doubtful that any such amiable outcome would be possible between power-hungry Sarrum and two northern kings.  _Though if we had more time to prepare, it would be three northern kings. Who knows? If this war starts to drag on, Axton will get involved._

As it was, the Bernician army was to be assembled and marched down to Deira, where it would unite with Deiran forces before continuing on to Amata. Hopefully the combined might of two kingdoms would be enough to overrun Sarrum's forces. All Gwaine knew for sure was that it would be bloody, exhausting, and would last for weeks if not months.

When speaking of marching off to war, plenty of people seemed to forget the little mundane details that went into getting ready for "marching", like trying to keep the warhorses and pack animals separate, or trying to count exactly how many soldiers' helmets had inexplicably gone missing since the last time there'd been a battle. Gwaine somehow found himself in the middle of this facet of preparations.

And of course there were other matters to be discussed such as who would rule Bernicia during Harlan's absence...Goddard would, despite Ela's protestations that he was in no fit state to be Regent given how weak he'd been lately; Gwaine agreed but knew his opinion would not be appreciated...which knights would be going...most of them...and even which battle tactics would most likely be of use. Gwaine would have liked to join in on the tactical conversations, though he had a feeling there were plenty of opinions on strategies already being offered.

Then there were the other conversations, which involved less negotiation with court members and more yelling from one or more Barclayns at a time.

_"The twins are not going, Harlan! Remember what happened to Everard last time?"_

_"We can't coddle them, Aldora; they're practically men already!"_

Harlan had won that argument; Gwaine was pretty sure that was because Aldwyn had acted as an intermediary and made the promise that the twins would not go into full combat.

The king lost the battle when it came to whether or not Haralda was staying home. Gwaine had owned up to his end of his bargain with Haralda and had pressured his father into supporting the princess's cause. Goddard had convinced his brother that it was for the best.

_"She's a strong warrior, Harlan. And you do realize that she'd just follow you if you left her behind?"_

Aldwyn had also nudged his father into allowing Haralda to come along. Gwaine thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Haralda was no ordinary delicate princess; she was a soldier and a damn good one at that. So where was the problem, exactly?

Well, everyone in his family was stubborn to some degree. That wasn't in the least unexpected.

Then came the scheme that left Gwaine utterly flabbergasted.

"He's lost his mind," Gwaine said, dropping his sword and belt onto the floor and not bothering to pick them up. He'd been preparing to head out to assist in checking the common soldiers' weaponry when Aldwyn and Elen had barged in on him. "Aldwyn, your father has officially lost his mind."

"That's what I said!" Elen exclaimed. "Father doesn't like the idea either and is trying to talk the king out of it, but…"

"Is it really that crazy, though?" Aldwyn asked.

" _Yes!_ " Gwaine and Elen said in unison.

"Tell me, Aldwyn, has your father ever been anywhere _close_ to Hayden's pets?" Gwaine said. "Because if he had…"

"Hayden used them to rescue us from Haig," Aldwyn pointed out.

Elen shivered, but ignored Gwaine's concerned look as she said, "That was different, Aldwyn. It was one castle…a few dozen soldiers. Not an army, not a city."

"Wyverns are unpredictable, Aldwyn. They're trained to behave around people, but…an entire army? Besides, I personally know a few men who won't sleep well with them around."

Aldwyn groaned and began to pace. "You remember the effect they had, Gwaine. Without them we'd never have gotten out…They're an asset, one that hasn't been explored yet. What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Well, you're beginning to talk like a king, for starters…" Gwaine smirked, "…you know, boring, impersonal…"

"I'll give you boring, you…"

"Hey!" Elen snapped, halting their banter. "You're both forgetting the most important thing.  _Hayden_. Wyverns aren't horses…you don't just harness them and expect them to behave for you. He's the only one who can control them. What if you take him to battle with you, him and his wyverns, and then…" She stopped, biting her lip.

Gwaine finished for her. "What if he's killed and you're left with a group of masterless wyverns?"

Nodding tersely, Elen said, "I've already talked to Hayden. He doesn't want to do it."

Hayden had, oddly enough, stayed in the city rather than gone home as planned, though why Gwaine couldn't say. Unfortunately, his presence was likely what made Harlan think of the wyverns and their possible use in battle.

"You have a point, but Father…He wants to use those wyverns to fight. And if he orders Hayden to make it happen…"

"Hayden can't say no. Not to his king." Gwaine glowered at nothing in particular for a minute. "I've got duties to attend to…Aldwyn, please just…just get your father to reconsider."

"I'll try." 

Elen shot him a glare. "You'd better." Then she turned on her heel and left the room without another word. With a shrug, Gwaine moved to follow her.

He'd just reached the door when Aldwyn said, "You forgot something, cousin." He gestured to the sword and sword belt, still laying on the floor.

"Oh. Right.  ** _Onbregdan_.**" The objects flew into Gwaine's waiting hands.

As he fastened the belt around his waist, he noted Aldwyn's wide-eyed look and paused. "What?"

Aldwyn shook himself and laughed, clapping Gwaine on the shoulder. "I'll never get used to that."

Gwaine had to laugh with him, despite everything. "You might as well try, Aldwyn." He finished fastening his sword belt as he said, "Because me and  _my_  magic aren't going anywhere."

"Don't have to say it. I need you around when I'm king. For entertainment."

"Pardon me? You have Elwin for that."

"Well, I may also need you to train my future sons in combat…"

"Don't count your daughter out just yet." Gwaine chuckled and punched his cousin on the arm. "I'll consider it. Now go talk some sense into Harlan."

"As I said before, I'll try. I can't promise that I'll succeed."

* * *

"You don't have to do this." Elen sounded desperate as she clutched her brown cloak around her, ignoring both the chilly afternoon wind and the curious stares she was getting from passersby.

Hayden didn't answer right away as he pretended to check the girth on his horse's saddle, conscious of the fact that the street in front of the inn wasn't the best place for this conversation. "Haven't got much of a choice, now do I?"

"My father…"

"Your father's done enough."  _Though perhaps if over half the council members hadn't suddenly decided they agree with the king over this…_ "It's fine, Elen. If my pets cause too much trouble…we'll just come back. I'm not taking all of them, anyway."

Elen's face, tinged pink by the cold air, took on an expression of fury. "My uncle's a fool!" she snarled.

Glancing around to make sure no one was listening too closely, Hayden replied, "He's also the king, Elen."

"And therein lies the problem." Hayden and Elen turned to see Gwaine approaching with long strides. "Thought I'd be too late to see you off, Hayden. Sure you want to leave so late in the day?" 

"I'll travel fast. I've left the wyverns alone with Flyta too long, anyway." 

He saw the siblings exchange looks before Gwaine said, "Look, mate, I'm sorry about this…"

"Don't be. Perhaps I can be of help, after all." Hayden turned and mounted his horse. The animal snorted and tossed its head as if sensing his tension.

"We'll meet you sometime tomorrow, when the army passes by your village," he heard Gwaine say, but his attention was drawn to Elen as she reached out and took hold of his horse's reins. "Hayden…"

"Don't." Hayden leaned forward and clasped her hand in his as she released his mount. "Take care of yourself."

She nodded, backing away. "Likewise."

Hayden wanted to smile at her, to give her some form of reassurance, but found he could not. As he rode out of the city, the icy feeling that had plauged him for the last few hours grew worse.

_I'm going into a war_. It didn't feel right. Not at all.  _Maybe the king_  is _insane; it was his idea to use my wyverns as weapons._ With any luck, they would just have him use the creatures in skirmishes along with way or to take out an outpost or two. In the chaos of a full-fledged battle, he didn't know how much use they would be.

_Then again, how much do I know of real battles?_ The answer was simple: next to nothing.  _Which under normal circumstances wouldn't bother me._

A war did not merit the title "normal circumstances".

He remembered his father saying something long ago along the lines of "wars brings out the best and worst of those who fight in them". Though he wasn't sure how much his father had experience of the subject, as he hadn't been a soldier.

_But he was a subject of the king of Bernicia, as I am. In the same situation, he would have just as little choice as I do. He wouldn't be able to say no, either, not without serious repercussions. No matter how foolish the scheme._

And yet, Hayden could understand the other side.  _The king needs to win a war by any means necessary, using any resources he has._ _Including animals like the wyverns._ Perhaps this was more of a choice than it seemed.

Hayden Wyverndomitor was not a selfish person. Sometimes he wished he was.

* * *

The rising sun had barely managed to turn the foggy night into grey dawn, yet most of the castle was awake and down in the courtyard. Throughout the city and outside the walls, foot soldiers and knights were assembling, preparing to embark. The noise they created…talking, shouting, clanging…was just audible inside the castle itself.

Gwaine was distracted by it as he hurried through the stone corridors, mentally checking to make sure he had everything.  _Sword…extra daggers…cloak…my pack should already be on the horse…_

"Gwaine?"

He glanced up, face breaking into a smile when he saw who it was.  _Good, a private conversation. I was hoping for this._  "Cleva," he said as he came to a halt before her. "Hey, guess what I found?" He reached underneath his tunic and pulled out the slender golden ring hung on a leather cord. He had admitted to her that he'd lost it when they'd had a brief conversation the day before. "I did some digging around my chambers…it had gotten lodged into a crack on the floor."

"And the servant who cleans your chambers never found it?" 

"It was under the bed," Gwaine admitted. "My servant's not that thorough."

"And how exactly did it get there?"

"Hell if I know." Gwaine eyed Cleva, noting the way she scrutinized him, taking in his full battle armor, complete with the dark green cloak and grey-wolf-and-star crest of a Bernician knight. "I was hoping I'd run into you…"

"Hmm, I suppose you were." She looked up, meeting his gaze. "So, off to war, then?"

"Yes." He paused. "Look, Cleva, I'm sorry we haven't had much time to talk since…"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "That's mostly my fault, Gwaine." Shrugging ruefully, she continued, "We'll talk when you get back."

"Yeah." Gwaine grinned, taking a chance by adding, "I'll come back and court you properly then."

Cleva's cheeks turned pink. "Gwaine…You're so… _absurd_."

Catching both the embarrassment and the exasperation in her voice, Gwaine said, "I thought you like that about me." He followed it with, "You're not going to make it easy, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Well, good, because I don't deserve to have it easy." 

Cleva smiled, but it soon faded into a worried expression. "Be careful."

"Hey, I was missing for ten years and came back alright, didn't I?"

The corners of her mouth twitched as she stepped forward and hugged him. "I mean it."

Returning her embrace, he said, "I know. I'll be fine."

After a couple seconds Cleva pulled away. "You'd better hurry down or they'll leave without you."

He gave her one last smile before striding off. _And I meant what I said, Cleva. When I get back…We'll see._

A couple minutes later, in the castle entryway, he ducked past the king and queen "saying" farewell in a  _very_  affectionate manner and hurried down the steps to the courtyard. He brushed past Aldwyn, who was cradling his daughter while telling Braeden, "I'll bring you back enough fine southern cloth for five new dresses…and one for Alison. Maybe two."

"Just bring yourself back and we'll be happy with that," Braeden told him.

Finding his mount among the crowd of other people and horses, Gwaine was about to check his saddle when he saw Elen a few paces off, a pack slung over her shoulders, tightening her mare's saddle girth. Forgetting his own supplies, he strode over to her. "You're  _not_  coming with us!"

His sister spun to face him with a glare. "Of course not; what gave you that impression?"

" _Pardon_  me for my misunderstanding, but the saddled horse and pack made me suspicious."

Elen shut her eyes for a moment, seemingly to calm herself. "Trust me, brother, I have no desire to ride to war, not since…What I mean is, I'm only going as far as Hayden's."

"Why?"

"Because someone's got to watch most his wyverns while you and Uncle Harlan drag him off to the southlands, and I think Flyta's probably had enough of them by now." Elen returned to checking over her horse.

Before he could point out the unfairness of her words... _Me and Uncle Harlan? I was against it!..._ their  _parents_ arrived. "Don't worry, Gwaine, we knew about it already," Goddard said, having heard the tail end of the siblings' conversation.

"I have to say, it's not a bad idea," said Ela. "Leaving poor old Flyta to deal with those wyverns for weeks…"

"Honestly, Mother, I think 'poor old Flyta' would be just fine doing that."  _But this is more about Elen wanting to feel useful. And getting to say a better goodbye to Hayden than the one yesterday_. Gwaine returned to his horse, aware that his father followed him while his mother stayed behind to say a few last words to Elen. "At least this time I'm not running off with no warning, eh?" he said after a couple moments.

"Just keep an eye on your cousins. The twins especially." Goddard paused. "And watch that magic of yours."

Gwaine took his time checking his saddlebags so he wouldn't have to turn around. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm only telling you to avoid getting into a situation you can't get out of. Don't allow yourself to become arrogant."

Smiling, Gwaine turned around. "Don't worry, Father, that's Aldwyn's job."

"Where does he get it from, Goddard?" Ela demanded as she joined them. "The 'turning everything into a joke' way he talks?"

"I suggest you consult your family tree, dear, because it wasn't me." Goddard said as Ela embraced Gwaine tightly.

"Don't do anything stupid," she cautioned.

" _Mother_ …" Gwaine groaned as she released him.

"Just don't say anything idiotic if your uncle asks you for directions."

"Why on earth would I do that?" Gwaine grinned. "Sorry."

His mother shook her head. "At least someone's in a good mood…And be careful with magic spells. I don't want to hear of you knocking yourself out in the middle of a skirmish."

"I think I can avoid that, Mother."

"Remember, trust yourself in battle. You're a warrior, Gwaine. You can keep yourself alive." Goddard spoke quietly, his words almost lost in the tumult around them.

_Yeah, I'm pretty good at that. The trick is going to be keeping everyone else alive, too._

The king picked that moment to come striding down the steps, bellowing, "Everyone, mount up!"

Gwaine reached out and gripped his father's shoulder, but was surprised when he was pulled into a hug. "Be safe," Goddard said.

"Yes, Father." Gwaine mounted his horse and glanced around. He saw Harlan haul himself onto his grey charger. Aldora stood nearby, her arms wrapped around a crying Hertha, while Aldwyn leaned down to kiss Braeden one last time. The twins were already near the front gates, Elwin clearly excited, Everard nervous. Haralda was nowhere in sight; she was already outside the city with the foot soldiers.

As the crowd of mounted knights and servants who were to accompany them began to move towards the gates, Gwaine happened to look up at the weathered stone walls of the castle again, laughing out loud when he saw Great-Aunt Gytha leaning out a window. "Be back by Midsummer, Harlan, or I'll never let you hear the end of it!" the old woman shouted.

Harlan's booming laugh filled the air as the Bernicians left the castle courtyard en masse. The mood of most was cheerful, boisterous, yet Gwaine couldn't help but think,  _For some, at least, this will be the last time they set foot here._

Whether Bernicia and Deira won or lost against Amata, war was war, and it always claimed victims.


	31. Chapter 30

_The citizens of Camelot must be very accustomed to the warning bell ringing by now_ , Merlin thought as he dashed down the corridor to the council chambers. _It's a wonder that they even notice the sound anymore._

The warlock had been cleaning himself up after mucking out the stables when the warning bell sounded. From a guard he had learned that it wasn't signaling an invasion or something of that sort, but an emergency meeting of the knights and council members in the council chambers. The room was in an uproar by the time Merlin got there, but he found Gauis in a corner and asked loudly, "What is going on?"

"I'm not sure," Gaius replied as Arthur swept into the room, followed by Guinevere.

A hush swept the room as the king took his place before the throne, the queen by his side. The crowd of councilors and knights faced them expectantly as a few moments of tense silence passed.

Arthur took a deep breath, then said, "We have just received word that an army is headed for our borders. Sarrum of Amata has declared war upon Camelot, and we must prepare to defend ourselves."

Merlin suddenly felt sick as the king's next words were lost in the buzz that began in his ears. S _arrum…war with Amata…if there is even the slightest chance that Morgana is involved…and Mordred…_

Arthur's doom could be at hand.

"By all accounts Sarrum's forces are strong, and he is a cunning warrior. I do not need to tell you all the stories about his brutality and prowess in battle," Arthur was saying. "But we do have the advantage of fighting on our own soil. We also fight for more than glory, for more than gain. We fight for our homes, our families, our own honor. And we will fight, and I believe we can succeed."

Merlin found himself staring at the man he'd served for years now, a man who had grown from pampered prince to noble warrior to great king. Yet, everything was not as it should be. There was so much left to do, so much resting on the outcome of this war.

"For the love of Camelot," Arthur said, his voice filling the room, "...we will prevail."

_Kilgharrah said that Albion's time of trial was near, that it was time to fulfill my destiny._

Fulfill it…or fail.

* * *

The Deirans, in general, weren't as rowdy as the Bernicians, but some of the foot soldiers definitely came close. Even as he ducked through the encampment, avoiding busy servants and careless knights and trying very hard not to spill the bowl of stew he was carrying, Gwaine could hear some kind of rowdy party going on a few tent rows away. He happened to know that those particular tents belonged to Deirans.  _As long as they can wake up tomorrow morning and get moving, no one's going to stop them._

The combined armies of Bernicia and Deira had reached Mercia...they gained permission from Bayard to march through it, granted that they didn't waste time or do anything illegal...and the closer they came to the borders of Amata, the more the excitement level of the troops rose. No matter what personal opinions of war each individual might have, the combined blood lust of several hundred men was nothing to scoff at.

It was affecting Gwaine, too, though he'd prefer that this was all over already. He didn't really feel like dying a glorious death before he'd even managed to reach the age of thirty.  _Despite the fact that a few years ago I was sure I'd end up dead by twenty-five, and not gloriously._

He shrugged the thought off. He had far more pressing things to think about.

The sun had nearly disappeared behind the nearest hills as he reached the edge of the encampment. A couple Bernician guards, sitting by a fire, nodded respectfully in his direction. He paid them little mind as his eyes landed on the tent set apart from the others, and the creatures stirring beside it.  _Those wyverns do not look happy at all._

Multiple times since leaving Bernicia, Gwaine and Aldwyn both had tried to convince Harlan to give up the whole "use wyverns in battle" idea and let Hayden return home. But the king's infamous stubbornness had set in. _That last time_ …Gwaine could swear that his ears were still ringing. It had been the first time he could recall his uncle truly scaring him.

_"Best we're going to be able to do is keep Hayden and his wyverns out of the thick of it."_

_"All right, Aldwyn, but if he gets hurt…"_

_"I know, you'll kill me."_

_"Oh, you won't have to worry about me. You'll have to worry about my sister."_

King Edlin of Deira had been startled by the wyverns...Gwaine was pretty sure that his uncle had not mentioned them to Bayard or Bromley of Northumbria when he sent requests for safe passage..but the concerns of almost everyone had been eased by the fact that the wyverns were restrained whenever the army camped. Wyverns did not like to be tied up, as a rule, and it didn't help that Hayden rarely tied up his. They didn't like it, as evidenced by their constant hissing and restlessness, and neither did their master.

Hayden wasn't handling the journey well, either.

To someone who didn't know him, he probably appeared aloof and moody. To Gwaine, who knew him well, the wyvern tamer was a constant mixture of jittery, angry, and just plain terrified.

For instance, he was currently sitting on the ground near his wyverns, polishing his battered old sword. The lack of concentration he was putting into it made it clear that he was only doing it because he had nothing better to do. Gwaine didn't like to see his friend like that. "Hey, I brought you some stew." He crouched down and offered Hayden the bowl. "It's a damn miracle I got it this far through the encampment without dropping it…everyone's in such a bloody hurry and we're not even going any further today…Let's see, I've got some bread in a pocket somewhere too…"

Hayden put aside his sword and silently took the food. Gwaine kept talking. "You know, I'd say Emerald's adjusting a bit. He doesn't look as murderous as he did a week ago, that's for sure. And Obsidian and Citrine do seem to be fine as long as their close to each other…didn't you say it's odd for wyverns to be that sweet with each other, even if they're mates? Diamond looks like he wants to eat the guards…of course he wouldn't, but I think they've noticed the looks he's giving them…"

He'd gotten out of the habit of rambling, Gwaine realized, until now. He'd started doing it around Hayden since the march south began, if only to fill the silence that seemed to follow the wyvern tamer everywhere. It wasn't that Hayden was a talkative person at any time; however, he did usually have something to say once he'd listened for a bit. Now he just didn't say anything.

_Just more proof that he's not taking this well._  Gwaine didn't even pause as he switched from the topic of wyverns to speculation on how drunk the one very loud Deiran group was going to get. Then he turned to drunken revels in general. "I once knew this fellow and his brother…scrawny lads, both of them…who could drink any man under the table, no matter how big, and that was without them even counting both as one…"

Hayden put down his bowl. "Why were you staring at us?"

Gwaine stopped mid-word, confused. "Staring at who? The wyverns?"

"Me and Elen. When we were saying goodbye at my house. You wouldn't stop looking at us."

Gwaine thought back to that day... _Less than a couple weeks ago? Was it really that recent?..._ and how he had stayed with the horses and guards who had accompanied him while Flyta spoke at length to the wyverns about how to behave and Elen and Hayden had stood by the horse shed talking for a several minutes. They'd stood so close together, so wrapped up in each other, that Gwaine had found it hard to look away. And they'd kissed…so briefly he'd almost thought he'd imagined it. _Not much of a kiss in my book, but that's up to them_. Realizing that Hayden was still waiting for an answer, Gwaine said, "I was just…you know, being a brother. Making sure my sister was alright."

"Did you think she was in danger while talking to me?" Hayden watched as his wyverns began to settle down in a tangled heap for the night, nipping at each other and growling over who got to sleep where.

"No," Gwaine said. "I would never think that."

"I'm glad to hear it."

An awkward silence ensued until Gwaine said, "Hayden, my sister…" He hesitated, considering how to phrase his next words. He took the simplest route. "She's happy when she's with you.  _You_  make her happy. And if she does the same for you…there's nothing wrong with that."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Just as long as you realize that if you break her heart, I will kill you."

Hayden's stone-grey eyes met his again, this time with a new intensity in them. "I won't."

* * *

After a long day of packing and preparing for the march from Camelot to where the battle would take place, Merlin was exhausted. The small measure of relief he had felt upon learning that they would meet Sarrum's army upon the Plains of Andor only hastened his plunge into a dreamless slumber. He'd been worried that the battle plans would include the fateful name of Camlann.

Thankfully, they hadn't, and he felt he could rest, if just for tonight. He had to be up early and prepared for the war they were riding into the next morning. Yet the warlock had only been asleep for a couple hours, judging by the moonlight streaming through his bedroom window, when he jolted awake.

Sitting up, he glanced around his room for an intruder.  _Nothing_. Odd, he could've sworn that he'd heard something.

With a sigh, he prepared to lay back down again, when he noticed his door. It was open a crack, which was strange because he knew for a fact he'd shut it tightly before he went to bed. A soft hissing sound reached his ears, and he tensed. As he moved to a cautious kneeling position, an inky shadow darted from under his bed and froze along the wall, still hissing. Eyes widening, Merlin reached for his magic, preparing to cast a spell.

The thing along the wall shot forward before he could defend himself, latching onto his face even as he let out a shout. It clung to him like a leech as he fell backwards off the bed and onto the floor. He managed to tear the thing off and throw it, only to have it lunge at him once more.

He fell back against the wall, feeling strangely cold and empty, as Gaius burst into the room, distracting and then killing the hostile creature with a shovel.

"Are you all right, Merlin?" Gaius asked. Merlin could barely whisper an answer.

_I've saved Arthur from plenty of assassination attempts, but this time I was the victim._ It had to be Morgana. By now she had to know his true name. She was targeting him now, hoping to destroy him in order to get to Arthur.  _Seems that she failed._

Less than an hour later, however, he and Gaius discovered the awful truth. The leech-like thing was an Eancanah, a creature of the Old Religion. Morgana had certainly sent it.

_But not to kill. Worse than that._

It had taken Merlin's magic.

"She's picked the worst possible moment to leave you at your most vulnerable, Merlin."

"Without my magic, I can't protect Arthur! And with Mordred at her side...Gaius, there has to be some way to get it back!"

"It doesn't say anything here about retrieving magic after it's been removed by an Eancanah..."

"Still, there must be a way. Or Arthur may be doomed."

"Well I'm afraid I can't help you, Merlin. I do not have the power."

"I understand, Gaius. I doubt any sorcerer does...but perhaps there  _is_  a way..."

"What are you thinking of, Merlin?"

"Perhaps there is  _place_  where I could possibly regain my magic."

"And where might that be?"

"The birthplace of magic itself. The Crystal Cave."

_Now, here's to hoping that Morgana doesn't leap to the same conclusion..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on, folks. It just gets crazier from here. ;)


	32. Chapter 31

Merlin didn't like to disappoint people...especially those he cared about.

He'd made an effort to do everything perfectly this morning. He'd cleaned Arthur's weapons, armor, and cloak until they were all immaculate, and lain them along with any other items that might be needed out on the table before the king had even gotten dressed. He knew that later that day the king, his knights, and his soldiers would march from Camelot. And he would not be with them.

_How do I explain?_  Merlin wondered as Arthur approached, looking confused at the impeccable work before him.  _How do I tell him that I can't go with him this time without looking like a shirker, a coward?_  "You'll find that's everything, Sire," he managed to say.

"Nice work. Unusually good, I must say. At least, coming from you."

"Thank you, Sire."

Arthur strode off to retrieve a map from a corner table. "So what is it you're after? Time off? Can't be money, you keep winning it from me in dice games…"

"I'm…just doing my job, Sire. Making sure you have everything you need for your journey."

"Thanks, but… _my_  journey?"

Merlin steeled himself and turned to look the king in the eye. "I'm afraid I won't be coming with you."

Arthur looked lost at this. Merlin pressed on, "I'm sorry, I…I have an urgent errand to run." His voice was shaking but he didn't stop. "For Gauis. Supplies…vital supplies. Can't get them in Camelot, so…" He stopped as Arthur's confused, almost hurt gaze bored through him.

Slowly, Arthur looked away. "Vital supplies. I see. I…understand."

Merlin was about to turn away, embarrassed and sorrowful, when Arthur said, "Merlin, all those jokes I made over the years, about you being a coward…"

"Arthur…"

"…I never meant any of them." Pause. "I…I always thought you were the bravest man I ever met. Possibly the stupidest, yet…" The king looked down. "Seems I was wrong."

All Merlin wanted to do in that moment was blurt everything out, to make Arthur understand that he was no coward, that he was trying to protect him by leaving now, to regain his powers so he could fulfill his destiny. But that was an empty wish. Arthur wouldn't understand.  _He doesn't understand now._

All the warlock could do was turn and walk out of the room, blinking back tears.

* * *

"Wait, the Sarrum's army is  _where_?"

_I can't be hearing this right,_  Gwaine thought.  _Did the Sarrum really not hear that a horde of violent northern men are bearing down upon his kingdom?_

"According to my scouts, the majority of his army are presently marching on Camelot," the king of Deira reaffirmed an earlier statement. "If he knows we are coming, then he doesn't see us as much of a threat."

"Then he's as arrogant as he is cruel," Aldwyn stated.

King Edlin frowned. "Then the rumors of his cruelty in his kingdom are not exaggerated?"

"He does like to hang petty criminals upside down on his castle walls occasionally. Once their hands and feet have been cut off. Or after he's impaled them with something." Gwaine said absently.

Edlin looked alarmed and Harlan was drawn out of his musing over Sarrum's battle tactics long enough to say, "If he'd even  _thought_  of doing that to  _you_ …"

"For the last time,  _Your Majesty_ , he never even knew I was in his kingdom," Gwaine said. "It was Uther who tried to chop my head off."

Another frown creasing his features, Edlin leaned over and asked Aldwyn, "Is your cousin always this odd? And did Uther really try to behead him?"

"You think this is odd? Wait until he starts using magic to show his annoyance." Aldwyn grinned. "And yes, Uther did, and Uther failed."

"Shut up, Aldwyn," Gwaine said, his mind mostly elsewhere.

_So Arthur, Merlin, and the rest are about to do battle with possibly the most brutal king in all the land. I wonder if Morgana is involved too?_ Because every time something like a war befell Camelot, the immediate response was "Is Morgana involved?".

The possibility made Gwaine very,  _very_  uneasy.  _She looked damned suspicious when I saw her, lurking around the woods with whoever those other people were…Merlin said she'd been plotting for months_   _now…_

"We shall attack his city and take it while it is poorly defended, then crush his stranded army," Harlan declared.

"A reasonable plan. Much better than going for the main army first, if they have left their city open," Edlin said. "We need to keep an eye on his forces that have deployed to the west, however. More scouts, perhaps?"

"Maybe a small battalion," Aldwyn suggested. "The more eyes and more potential scouting groups the better."

"Yes, I agree," Edlin said. "Harlan?"

"A couple dozen swift riders would suffice." 

Gwaine opened his mouth before he could stop himself. "Send me."

Three pairs of eyes latched onto him. Squaring his shoulders and facing his uncle, he said, "Let me lead the riders."

"And why should we do that?" Harlan said.

_He still hasn't forgiven me for the whole situation with Hayden. Well, I haven't forgiven him either, so we're even._  "It's obvious," he said. "I was a knight of Camelot for three years. I know the land, the best routes for Sarrum's army. I have no shortage of battle experience. I'm the reasonable choice."

A short silence was broken by Aldwyn saying, "He's right."

_Thank you, cousin._

Harlan snorted. "There'd be no need battle experience on a scouting mission."

"On the contrary, there may be great need," Gwaine said. "Sarrum will have his own scouts running about everywhere, and Arthur too. They'll all be armed. And once again, I have the best knowledge of the land. If there's going to be a battle involving the Amatan forces, we need to know as much about it as possible if we're going to use timing to our advantage."

Edlin coughed. "No offense, Lord Gwaine, but didn't I hear that you were banished from Camelot?"

"I've been banished twice, actually, but war changes the circumstances quite a bit." Gwaine almost smiled. "How do you think a became a knight of Camelot in the first place?"

"Fine!" Harlan snarled. "You may lead the riders. Pick them out yourself, knights, soldiers, I don't care. And take Haralda with you."

_Still trying to keep his daughter out of battle, I see. It's still ridiculous._

"You can take some of my knights as well," Edlin said.

Gwaine inclined his head toward both kings in turn and left the tent without another word. Aldwyn followed him. "Gwaine, wait…"

"I thought you were on my side, Aldwyn."

"I am, I just…Why did you volunteer? Truthfully?"

Halting, Gwaine turned to face his cousin. "Aldwyn, I spoke with Merlin not too long ago. Morgana Pendragon and her cronies are up to something. Sarrum hates magic…unless he can gain by using it. I think Morgana's allied with him somehow, or she has friends who has. All she wants by this point is to take the throne of Camelot at any cost."

"And this affects you…how?"

"It affects be because I do care what happens to Camelot." Gwaine replied. "I don't want to, but…I've faced Morgana. I know what she's like. She'll destroy Camelot, the good and the bad alike. I don't want that to happen. Maybe I can't really do anything to stop it…but I have chance to at least know what's happening, and I'm taking it."

Aldwyn shook his head slowly. "You care about them, don't you? Those knights of Camelot…that manservant…that king."

"I fought alongside those knights many times. That manservant is my friend."  _And a powerful sorcerer who will surely be fighting tooth and nail alongside Arthur in the upcoming battle._  "And Arthur Pendragon isn't like his father, as easy as it would be to say that. He can change."

"You've told me he wasn't his father all over again ," Aldwyn said after a moment's pause. "You told me that shortly before you told him he was exactly like Uther and that you wanted nothing to do with him ever again."

_I know all that. I know it too well_. Gwaine took a deep breath. "Aldwyn…I don't know if I'll ever even speak to Arthur again…we're going to be avoiding contact with anyone on this mission, for one thing…and I doubt he'll ever trust me again. But right now I need you to understand…This is something I have to do."

Aldwyn didn't argue further. Instead, he agreed to pick out the riders for Gwaine while the latter went to see Hayden.

After explaining to the wyvern tamer what was going on, Gwaine said, "I'll ask Aldwyn to keep an eye on you and the wyverns. In fact, I'll get the twins to as well. They'll keep you out of the thick of battle if they can. And you won't be facing the entirety of Sarrum's army."

"There is that," Hayden said. 

Gwaine paused. "Look, Hayden, chances are I'll be safer than you, scouting and all, but if something should happen to me…"

"Elen will be fine," Hayden said quietly. "I'll take care of her no matter what."

"Good." Gwaine stepped over to where the wyverns were restrained and patted Emerald on the head. The creature responded by nuzzling his hair.

Hayden stood close, uneasy. "Gwaine, if…if  _I_  were to die…"

"You'd better not."  _It'll kill my sister._ Gwaine looked up at the creature he was petting. "Emerald, as a friend and a member of the royal family, I command you to make sure your master does not die. If you fail, I will personally eat you for dinner. You probably don't taste much different than regular lizard."

"Had experience eating lizards, Gwaine?" 

"More than I care to admit."

They smiled crookedly at each other and left it at that.

* * *

_I should have brought someone with me. Then again, who could I have trusted and what could they have done?_

Merlin, in a panic and feeling unable to trust anyone, had ridden alone against Gaius's advice, as fast as his horse could run, to the Valley of the Fallen Kings. The Crystal Cave was far from the battlefield where two armies would soon clash, but that could not be helped.

Merlin had hoped that Morgana would not realize there was a place he could possibly regain his magic. But she'd been another step ahead of him.

The sword he now held shook slightly in his grasp as he crept through the cave, trying to discern which direction Morgana's mocking words were coming from.

"I see you, Emrys." Her maniacal laugh echoed around the dusty rock walls.

Keeping his voice steady as possible, Merlin said, "Face me, Morgana."

"Your secret was kept so well." Another chilling titter. "All that power, hiding behind the facade of a worthless servant!"

"Face me," Merlin repeated, attempting to sound intimidating and failing.

"You protected my brother so well." Her voice seemed to come from every direction. "But you cannot protect him now. You cannot even protect yourself."

"Why are you hiding, Morgana? Are you still frightened of me?"

She laughed again, this time behind him. He spun around to find her standing in the rough stone doorway he had just entered, the faint light from the cave entrance framing her black-clad figure and casting her white face in shadow. "I fear no one. Least of all you." Her green eyes that had once held such warmth and kindness glinted at him coldly, filled with hatred.

He lunged for her. Her voice rang out, incanting a spell which brought about rockfall blocking the doorway, leaving Merlin alone in the dust-filled darkness.

He collapsed against the rocks, breathless, for what might have been hours before struggling upright, clambering up the gritty rocks and tearing at some smaller ones at the top. His efforts failed and he slid down the wall again, gasping, choking on the filthy air. A hoarse cry tore from his throat as he struck the wall with his fist, overcome by his own helplessness.

_Gauis. Gwen. The knights. The people of Camelot. Arthur. I've failed them. Failed them all._

He'd failed Morgana, too, in a way _._

Time slipped past as tears slowly dripped down his cheeks. An ache began deep inside him, an ache of sorrow which slowly spread and consumed everything. He was alone in the darkness, and there was no way out.

After an eternity of agony, he turned his head slightly, gaze caught by light at the end of the tunnel away from the blocked doorway. Unsteadily, he stood and followed it, climbing up a slope of more dusty stone.

He reached the top and collapsed again, this time falling unconscious. The next thing he knew, someone was speaking his name. "Merlin!"

_I know that voice_. He hadn't heard it as much as he would have wished. "Father?" He opened his eyes, finding himself in the cave lit by glowing crystals. His gaze swept over the walls before coming to rest on the pale, silvery figure of Balinor as he had known him.

"Hello, my son," the Dragonlord said with a gentle smile.

"How…how can you be real? Are you real?" Merlin whispered.

"It is of no consequence. What is important is that you heed my words. You must not give up, Merlin. You must fight on, or this battle and all that follow are already lost."

Merlin swallowed. "But…I can do nothing. My magic…it's gone. The Eancanah took it…"

"Merlin, you _are_ magic. It can never truly be taken from you. The magic of the earth cannot be taken from the earth itself. It is here, and it is waiting for you."

For the first time since he had seemingly lost his magic, Merlin felt true hope.

Balinor…or the ghost of Balinor, whatever it was…knelt down beside him. "For now, you must rest. Soon you will awaken to the light." Merlin's eyes fluttered closed again.

It seemed mere moments later that he awoke, his injuries from the rockfall healed, his magic humming in his veins once more. And yet, the familiar feeling now seemed… _more_ than it had been before. The power he had once had to struggle to reach for and command was at his fingertips.

_This is who I am. This is who I was meant to be. Emrys._

"Thank you, Father," he said, turning to Balinor, still standing in the light of the crystals.

"I only offered a hand. You are stronger than you know, Merlin. Trust in yourself. Your destiny awaits."

Minutes later, the rocks at the cave entrance flew outward in a cloud of dust. And old man in a red robe strode out, looking..and feeling..simultaneously pleased and grumpy. "Now, where was Arthur heading again?"

He mulled it over for a minute, staring at the tree where his horse  _had_ been tethered. "Oh, drat it all," he grumbled, "I'll call the dragon."


	33. Chapter 32

One of the two soldiers bearing Sarrum's crest went flying through the air and slammed into a tree, courtesy of a spell from Gwaine. The other was taken care of just as swiftly by one of Haralda's throwing axes, embedded in his skull. 

The rest of the riders, a mix of mostly Bernician and a few Deiran knights, had not had a great view of the clearing in which the two enemy soldiers had just met their ends, but those in the front relayed the information of what had transpired to those in the back. Gwaine and Haralda, who had been riding in front and therefore been the first to spot the enemy scouts, exchanged looks as Haralda moved her horse over the the second body, leaned down, and extracted her axe from it. "Pity you can't just _learn_  magic, no matter who you are."

"Even if you could, I wouldn't teach you," Gwaine said.

"Humph." Haralda waved her bloody axe at the bodies. "These two were scouts."

"Looks like it."

"My lord!" someone shouted. Turning his head, Gwaine saw one of the Deirans pointing across the clearing as he heard Haralda swear. He looked back, and sure enough a third Amatan was running away through the trees.

" _ **Wáce ierlic!**_ " Even as the fleeing man was knocked off his feet, two Bernician knights sprang off their horses and raced to subdue him.

Gwaine followed, still mounted. The soldier was conscious, glaring as the two knights hauled him to his feet by the arms. "You're one of Sarrum's men?"  _Clearly not the finest specimen; he's rather scrawny. And not very old. Maybe Sarrum always uses his newest recruits for scouting?_

The man spat in the dirt. Gwaine took that as a yes. "We already know there's a battle about to take place near here." The scouting group had crossed the thin strip of Mercian lands that separated Amata from Camelot that morning. "I expect you know where exactly?"

The Amatan averted his gaze, glaring at the empty air.

"Want me to have a go at him, cousin?" Haralda said. 

"No, I can get him to talk." Ignoring the crowd of knights now gathered around, Gwaine swung off his horse and approached the prisoner. He pulled out his dagger. " _ **Ahatian.**_ " The metal blade hissed as it turned red. The eyes of everyone, including the Amatan, focused on it.

_Okay, now all I've got to do is get him talking without losing focus and having the heat spread to the dagger hilt as well._  "Where's your overlord's army?" Gwaine asked, staring straight at the Amatan. The man made no sound. Stepping closer and brandishing the glowing dagger, Gwaine said, "I'll ask again: Where is Sarrum's army?"

The man swallowed. Gwaine faked the cruelest smile he could, which probably made him look quite demented. "I'm sure you've been burned before. On your hands, maybe? There's plenty of tenderer spots than that on you, I'm sure."  _Haralda, if you laugh at that comment, I'll use this dagger on you._  "Just think about it."

Nobody moved for a moment. Then the young man looked down and mumbled, "They meet in battle within a day, on the Plains of Andor. A few hours' ride from here."

"See, that wasn't difficult." Gwaine dropped his smile and glanced down at his dagger; it was rapidly cooling and returning to its normal color. He stuck it back in its sheath. "Take his weapons and release him," he said as he remounted his horse.

"But my lord…" began one of the Bernician knights, a stocky man called Sir Randal. He was one of the oldest Aldwyn had chosen for the scouting mission. Gwaine didn't mind having a man of so many years' experience along; right now, he did mind being questioned.

"Last I checked, I was in charge of this battalion, Sir Randal. Do as I say!" he told the knights holding the prisoner.

Minutes later they were on the move once more, keeping their pace steady but swift. Gwaine led the way, as he was the only person who actually knew where the Plains of Andor were. A few of the knights spoke amongst each other, with Haralda shouting random comments where she thought they were needed. Gwaine stayed quiet, giving himself some time to think about the last couple days.

Overall, he was surprised at how well the mission was going. His orders had not been  _seriously_  questioned so far, and they had made good time. They'd been undetected so far, and, thanks to an inexperienced Amatan soldier, they now knew where the battle would take place, and when.

_The battle between Camelot and Amata,_  Gwaine reminded himself.  _Our people are back_ in _Amata, attacking the city._ He wondered if they were fighting the battle at present, or if it was already over. They could be at Amata's main city right now. He had little doubt they would win; it was the question of the cost which worried him.

He hoped his family members and friends were all right.

_"Keep an eye on Hayden. And your brothers."_

_"Yes, Gwaine, I will keep close watch over your future brother-in-law." Aldwyn rolled his eyes. "And when do I_ not _have to watch my younger brothers?"_

_Everard and Elwin both snorted as Gwaine punched their older brother in the shoulder. "Shut it. And as for you two…" He grinned, "Keep out of trouble. I'm looking at_ you _, Elwin."_

_"Hey!"_

_Everard chuckled with the others, but his gaze moved to someone behind Gwaine, among the mounted knights. "Goodbye, Haralda!"_

_The princess had already swung onto her horse. "Goodbye, Ev, El. Don't do anything stupid."_

_"She speaks sense!" Aldwyn laughed. "Take care, sister."_

_"You too. Are you coming Gwaine?"_

_"Yes, just a moment." Gwaine clasped Aldwyn's arm. "If we're lucky…meet you on the other side of the war, cousin."_

_"Yeah." Aldwyn smiled. "Meet you on the other side."_

The last Gwaine had seen of the princes, looking over his shoulder while riding off, Aldwyn had had Elwin in a headlock and Everard was doing his sternest Aunt Gerarda impression while watching them. It had made him smile.

Now he was just worried...about what lay behind, and about what lay ahead.

_What if Arthur loses?_ Bernicia and Deira might rise victorious from their war with Amata, but what of Camelot?  _I shouldn't be worrying about his. It's not my problem._

Or was it?

* * *

The encampment was gallingly close to the battlefield.

One of Sarrum's advisors, in control of the castle and the town that surrounded it, had deployed his remaining soldiers to the plain. The Bernicians and Deirans had not wasted any time charging directly at the defending line. They had superior numbers. But the Amatans were legendary warriors, and judging by the number of wounded being brought back to the encampment, they were putting up an admirable fight.

_For us, that just means they're making it harder than it should be._

Sarrum himself and the bulk of his army were elsewhere, battling a different king. His main city didn't even have proper walls around it; only the castle did.

If Everard felt tense about the battle raging such a short distance away, it was nothing compared to Elwin. Elwin kept pacing around, muttering, not doing anything constructive at all. Everard finally approached him, having spent the last hour helping move wounded retrieved from the battlefield into the healing tents. He ached all over and his patience with his twin had all but run out. "Elwin, do something useful, will you?"

"Like what? I don't want…" Elwin shivered.

"You don't have to help move the injured," Everard said, knowing his twin's terror of such tasks, "But you could patrol the camp edges for enemy soldiers or something of that sort."

"Why can't we join the battle instead?"

Everard recognized his brother's expression. " _No_."

"Ev…"

"Father said no, Mother said no, Aldwyn said no…Hell, even King Edlin said no! We're staying here, and unless Amatan soldiers break into the camp, we're not fighting."

"But we're old enough to fight! You've been in a battle as a soldier…"

"I was in a  _skirmish_ , Elwin, with no more than a few dozen men involved! And, in case you don't remember, I nearly  _died_!"

"Can't we just go see how it's going? From the ridge?" Elwin pleaded. There was a low ridge between the encampment and the battlefield. "We won't go into it…"

Everard groaned. "Fine. Let's run up to the top of the ridge and see…but no further."  _This way maybe he'll stop being so impossible and we should be safe enough on the top of the hill, away from the fighting._

He was wrong.

Most of the fighting  _was_  taking place near and within the town around the castle, but several minor clashes of two or three men were occurring throughout the plain and even on the hillside near where the twins stood. Littered about were the bodies of dead and dying.

Struggling not to be pulled back into terrifying memories, Everard grabbed Elwin's arm. "Let's get back to the encampment." His brother seemed frozen, staring at the carnage. "Elwin!"

"Duck!" somebody shouted, and Everard threw himself to the ground, dragging Elwin with them. He heard an arrow whistle overhead as they both tumbled down a steep bit of the grassy hill, then came the sound of a crossbow firing, followed by a heavy thud.

Pushing himself to his feet and trying to ignore the mutilated body of a Deiran knight he'd landed next to, Everard looked around see Aldwyn running towards them, crossbow in hand. His horse was gone, his clothes were streaked with dirt and blood, and he looked furious. "What the  _hell_  are you two doing?"

Elwin scrambled to his feet. "It was my fault, Aldwyn! We were just looking…"

"I believe it was your fault, Elwin; but, Everard, I thought you knew better!"

"I'm sorry!" Everard glanced around; the three or four minor fights nearby seemed to have burnt out, with the victors, all on their side, rushing away towards the city. "How goes the battle?" All he could see was the distant flashing of blades and smoke rising from somewhere in town. He hoped not too many civilians were caught in the crossfire.

"It could be worse." Aldwyn glanced at his crossbow, then dropped it with a heavy sigh; his bolts appeared to be gone. Running a hand through his hair, he said, "Their defenses are almost demolished; they had so few men left. But the castle guards remain, and those we've killed have taken many of our men down with them…Hayden lost one of his wyverns, over on the other side."

Everard winced. "Which one? Is Hayden all right?"

"I have no idea which one it was, but he's fine. Staying back, out of it. I assigned a few men to keep any enemies from attacking him…by the time they realized who was controlling the flying lizards, most of those on the plain were dead. It's just a matter of time…" Aldwyn trailed off, the quiet close to them only broken by a groan from a nearby fallen Amatan. Then the older prince shook himself and drew his sword, already bloodstained from earlier. "Why am I rambling? Get back to the encampment! That's an order!"

Everard grasped Elwin's arm again...though the younger twin held back, looking over his shoulder...and began to pull him back up the hill, the distant sounds of the battle proper filling his ears.

Then they ceased to register.

First came a clang of metal against metal. Next, a shout, cut off as a ripping sound took its place. Then a dull thud, followed by a yell of triumph.

Everard turned almost too slowly to see the dagger that Elwin wrenched from his belt and threw. The blade spun through the air and lodged into the chest of an Amatan warrior. His left arm bore a deep slash and dangled uselessly, but his right hand held a thick, short sword, dyed red. His pleased expression faded to shock as he glanced down at the dagger hilt protruding from his body, and he collapsed, revealing a body on the ground directly behind him...body clad in chain mail and dark green.

The world seemed to fall silent except for his pounding heart as Everard sprang forward, leaping over the Amatan's body to reach his older brother. His relief at realizing that said brother was still breathing and looking up at him vanished when he realized how much blood there was on the ground.

_No…no, this can't happen…no…_ Everard's thoughts were mostly incoherent as he knelt by Aldwyn's side and saw the source of all the blood: a gash that tore through the man's torso and chest, as if a blade had been stuck into him and wrenched upward, destroying everything in its path.

Which was exactly what had happened...because one injured Amatan hadn't been injured badly enough.

Everard felt rather than saw Elwin fall to his knees beside him; he was too focused on Aldwyn. He recalled his first "battle", and the death he had seen then. It hadn't been like this. _So close, so…unreal._

Aldwyn let out a choked noise, as if trying to speak. his right hand moving spasmodically, reaching for his sword, which had fallen a couple paces away. Everard took his brother's shaking hand in his own as it struck him that he would never hear Aldwyn's voice again.  _No one can heal that wound._

His eyes found his brother's grey ones. He'd never seen them so full of fear.  _This can't be happening…Not Aldwyn…What will we do without him?_

Everard felt his lips moving, though he was uncertain what he was saying at first. "I'll take care of them, Aldwyn. I'll take care of everything. I promise." He tightened his grip. "It's okay."  _I'm sorry._

His brother's face seemed to relax for a moment, before it tightened with pain. Every gurgling breath came slower than the last. They stopped.

Several long, hushed moments later, Everard reached out and closed the Crown Prince's staring eyes, releasing the limp hand he still held.  _Why am I so calm?_

_Because I have to be._

Rising, he looked towards the city. The northern soldiers had reached the castle gates, which were already falling inward, the Amatan soldiers scattering through the town before the Bernician and Deiran horde. Hayden's wyverns hurtled around the castle walls, tearing guards off of battlements and shrieking over the clamor of battle.

He heard sniffling, and turned to see Elwin still on his knees, tears leaking from his eyes as he stared down at their brother. 

"Get up."

Elwin's gaze snapped upward, startled. He had reason to be; Everard didn't recognize his own voice. It was cold, dead. like...But he spoke again, pushing back the horror and grief rising within him. "Get up, Elwin."

His twin staggered to his feet, his shoulders shaking. Everard stepped close and grabbed him. "Look at me, Elwin." As frightened grey eyes met his, he said, "Stop crying." He paused. "I said, _stop it_!"

Elwin pulled away, rubbing his hand across his face. Everard forced himself to breath slowly as his twin stammered out, "What…what now?"

"Now, we go back to the encampment."

Elwin's miserable expression switched to anger. "What? We can't…we should stay, to avenge him…what they've done…"

_Don't you think I want that?_  Everard wanted to scream.  _Don't you think I want to stay, to tear every Amatan I find to pieces? To make them all pay for the death of our brother?_

But acting like that, like angry children, would get them both killed. And it would not bring back Aldwyn. "We're going back." When Elwin's expression remained defiant, he said, "Do you think it will do our parents any good to lose more children today?" Slowly, his twin nodded. "Come on, then." 

"What about…him…"

"We'll come back later. He'd want us off this battlefield."

As they walked back to the camp, moving slower than they probably should have been, he heard a distant cheer from the Bernicians and Deirans. The battle was all but won,

Everard supposed he should have been happy about that, but he wasn't.

He didn't know if he could ever be happy again. 

* * *

Hayden had heard tales of men who loved war. Often, he had wondered how they could love something so terrible, so wasteful. Now he knew. Such men were monsters.

_How can they not be?_

Per instructions from the king, Hayden had ridden to the flank of the Amatans as the Bernicians and Deirans had charged the line. From there, he had unleashed the wyverns, sending them hurtling over the main battlefield, then up against the guards at the castle gates and walls. He directed them there even more as the battle moved into the town; he didn't want his pets to harm any innocents. He wasn't sure how well he succeeded; it was hard to see anything clearly in the chaos.

A few Bernician soldiers remained close, under orders from Prince Aldwyn. Any Amatans who came towards him were swiftly dealt with.

Hayden knew little about full-scale battles, but he could tell from the beginning that the odds were stacked in favor of the Berncians and Deirans. They had greater numbers, more mounted troops, and, of course, his wyverns. The Amatan line soon buckled, though small groups made violent forays forward, strewing bodies far and wide across the field between the ridge and the castle.

And yet, tangled together in the battle, it was hard to distinguish Amatans and Deirans and Bernicians, despite their clothing indicating their country and loyalty. They all fought like beasts. They wielded similar weapons. They screamed in rage the same way. They killed in the same ways. They died in the same ways.

_As monsters._

Standing on a hillock, sword out but unused, removed from the battle yet close enough to smell the blood and sweat, Hayden saw Obsidian fall from the sky, dark graceful body writhing, felled by a well-coordinated volley of arrows from the castle walls. He saw Citrine go after the archers without a word from him, and laughed like a madman as they were torn apart. Then he wanted to weep for the ugliness of it all, the wrongness of everything, the smells, the sounds, the hatred.

Hayden hated this. He hated war.

In this moment, as the men from the north screamed in victory and the defeated either fled or made desperate last stands, he hated the whole world.

* * *

The evening air was cool, bordering on chilly as Arthur Pendragon surveyed the solemn ranks of men standing before him, some holding torches which flickered in the slight breeze. Across the wide plain, dotted with rocky knolls, another army of torches glowed in the twilight.

_No pause, no rest. Sarrum likes to fight at night._

His scouts had spotted another group of people, most of them armed, only a short distance to the north. He had no doubt they would join the battle. If they were what he thought they were, the results could be catastrophic.

_One of the scouts said he saw Morgana with them._ Where Morgana was, more sorcerers were likely to be.  _And Mordred._

Arthur clenched his jaw, willing himself not to think about the former knight. Instead, he considered the odds. A month ago, he would not have believed that the Sarrum would ally himself with those who had magic. He also knew that the sorcerers were unlikely to join the battle if they were expecting to fight both sides. So they had to be allied with Sarrum somehow. _Most likely some deal involving land and spoils of war…_

"Sire?" Arthur turned to find Leon beside him, with Percival and Elyan just beyond. "Sire, the men are ready."

Arthur nodded. Stepping up onto a small boulder nearby, he looked out across the rows of gleaming chain mail and Camelot red. He could just make out two figures near the back: beloved Gwen, who had refused to stay in Camelot, dressed in a white tunic that stood out like a light against the shadowy grey land around her, and wise Gaius, old and weary but still there in Camelot's hour of need.

Arthur was glad to see them both. 

Looking back at his men, he began, "Tonight, we fight formidable enemies. I speak not only of Sarrum, but of Morgana. I have received word that she may also join in this battle." He paused as whispers swept the ranks. "I do not need to tell you how difficult this battle will be. Some of us will surely not live to see the dawn." He hesitated, struggling to keep his voice steady. "But we will fight. Not only for our lives and our homeland, but for the future of the united kingdoms." He drew the sword he had once pulled from the stone; it flashed in the fading light. "For the love of Camelot!" he shouted.

" _For the love of Camelot!_ "

Pride and courage filled him, drowning out his fear that, throughout all his years of battle experience, had never fully gone away. Then he remembered something, and felt strangely alone despite the hundreds of men around him.

_I wish Merlin were here._


	34. Chapter 33

The initial mad rush of the two armies towards each other was punctuated by roars, calling for courage, for victory, for the blood of foes. The shouts faded into the clanging of weapons and screams of pain as the two waves of men met in on the plain, crashing together and mingling in a swirl of flashing steel and spraying blood.

Arthur led the charge, as was his custom, but he didn't see the Sarrum anywhere near the front line. Of course, it could be the dim lighting, but he doubted it.  _Sarrum will join the fray when it suits him, and not before._ It was unsurprising, really. Arthur had watched the overlord interact with the other Amatans while in Camelot. Sarrum had no true regard for the lives of his men. They were tools only, useful, not important as of themselves.  _But they're bloody good fighters._

The three Arthur managed to take out at once when the lines first met were unfortunately an exception. Every single Amatan he fought after that gave him hell.

_Attack, back up, parry, strike, defend, attack again_ …Arthur fought as only someone trained since childhood knew how to, with everything he had and more. His sword seemed to become part of him as it struck down enemy after enemy in his hands, humming with the energy surging through his veins. Alas, realizing anew how excellent his sword happened to be reminded Arthur of who had led him to it in the first place.  _Damn it, Merlin…_

Fortunately, in the heat of battle he had neither the time nor the urge to pursue that thought.

The fight raged on as the moon began to send flickers of light down from between the scattered clouds. The armies of Camelot and Amata were evenly matched, or so it seemed at first. One line would surge forward, drop back as the other retaliated, then push forward again. Nobody was winning. But every push and pull would leave another row of bodies on the ground.

Right in the thick of it all, Arthur knew it could be much, much worse.  _Where the hell is Morgana?_

He had just struck down an Amatan axeman when he heard someone shout his name. He whipped around to see Leon coming towards him, pushing through the chaos. "Sire, a swift group of Amatans are circling around our right flank!"

Arthur felt a surge of fear. "The camp?"

Leon came closer as the line of Camelot soldiers pushed forward, leaving them out of the direct fighting. "I'm not certain, Sire. We do have men guarding it…They appear to be attempting to overwhelm our forces."

"We can't allow them to succeed." Arthur looked around. "Percival!" he shouted as he managed to spot the tall knight looming over the others at the front line. He also glimpsed the dark-skinned knight beside him. "Elyan! Both of you, with me!" As they acknowledged his command, he turned and pushed through the fray, heading towards the western side of the battle.

Before they reached the place where the Amatans had flanked them, they heard a renewed burst of shouting from somebody, and the unmistakable sounds of horse hoofs and whinnying.

"They sent riders to flank us!" shouted Elyan. Arthur's heart sank. A line of mounted warriors could inflict severe damage on foot soldiers, and would be much more difficult to repel.

"No!" shouted Percival as they continued to run towards the fray. With the advantage of height, he could apparently see something Elyan and Arthur could not. "The riders…There's a couple dozen, maybe...I don't know who they are, but they're attacking the Amatans!"

Moments later, Arthur could see what he was talking about.

In the near-darkness, he couldn't make out their crest, if they even bore one. But they charged straight into the battle and were fighting like madmen… _and women?_ Arthur wasted a precious few seconds gaping at the shrieking woman who was wielding two axes, spinning them around in a near-blur. It was incredible that she didn't chop her own horse's head off; however, any Amatans in her way did suffer that fate.

His focus was broken as an enemy warrior charged him with a massive broadsword. Arthur ducked the first blow, feeling the wind from the blade as he swung his own upward, barely nicking his opponent's torso. The soldier took a step back, which gave the king enough time to regain his balance and lunge forward, raining blows down as fast as he could. Seeing an opening, he thrust his sword through the soldier's throat.

As his opponent fell, Arthur staggered back, gasping for breath.  _The battle cannot be half over and I'm already about to drop from exhaustion_.

His moment of weakness was his undoing. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed another sword blade whistling through the air, aimed for his neck. He struggled to raise his own in time.

Another sword seemed to appear from nowhere and blocked the blow that would have brought a very swift end to the King of Camelot. His attacker was taken by surprise and dispatched quickly; this gave Arthur enough time to identify his rescuer.

It was one of the strange riders, now dismounted. His cloak was dark green, and even from the back, he looked oddly… _familiar_. Then he turned around.

Arthur didn't know whether to feel outraged, relieved, or simply confused.

" _What the blasted bloody hell are you doing here, Gwaine?_ "

* * *

Gwaine Barclayn had made a lot of bad decisions over the course of his life. Lately, he had been trying to make up for those bad decisions by making good ones.

He wasn't sure how to classify this one yet.

Their informant had been correct; a battle between Camelot and Amata was about to take place on the Plains of Andor. What the scouting group hadn't expected was to stumble onto said battle already being waged with a vengeance.

Some of the scouting group...mostly Deirans...had suggested they retreat and wait out the battle to see the outcome, then go from there. Others in the group...mostly Bernicians...suggested charging straight in and killing everyone in sight. Still others, like Sir Randal, thought this was a stupid idea, but didn't openly support the other idea and went about insulting the intelligence of everyone.

They had been hiding behind one of the numerous small hills in the area when Haralda returned...nobody had noticed she'd left...and announced that Camelot's forces were being flanked on the side nearest to the scouts by a group of swift Amatan warriors. "If that maneuver is successful, the Amatans are going to win," she'd said.

Gwaine had made his split-second decision. "We're riding in." Then, "We'll be fighting the Amatans."

This had raised a few complaints. One younger Bernician knight had demanded, "Why are we fighting the Amatans? Camelot is our enemy too!" To which Gwaine had replied, loud enough to make Harlan proud, "Last I checked, we weren't at war with Camelot! We  _are_  at war with Amata! Plus I'm King Harlan's nephew and the leader of this battalion, so you'll do as I tell you to!"

So they'd charged in, bellowing and waving their weapons the way northern warriors were rather wont to do. The Amatans didn't see them coming. Neither did the poor Camelot soldiers. _They probably thought they were done for when we showed up._

Gwaine ended up being dragged off his horse by an enemy that he managed to kill, then glimpsed a knight of Camelot about to be beheaded by another soldier. He intervened, realizing moments later that he'd just saved Arthur Pendragon's life. _Again_.

When the bewildered and angry king asked him what the  _blasted bloody hell_ he was doing there, Gwaine said, "Helping you, apparently."

Arthur made a wild gesture at the nearest rider. "These men…?"

"Some of my uncle's knights. And a few Deirans. We're a scouting group."

"Scouting…"

"Bernicia and Deira are at war with Amata. How you did not know this, I have no clue. We should probably get back to fighting the Amatans. Unless you want to kill me now?"

Arthur opened his mouth, shut it again, shook his head, then turned and threw himself back into the fighting. Gwaine shrugged and did the same.

Minutes later, it became clear that the Amatans were beaten, at least on this particular front. Gwaine found himself fighting beside Percival to drive back the last of them. The tall knight hardly seemed surprised to see him...though, as Gwaine reminded himself, Percival wasn't the emoting type.

"Sire!" He heard Elyan's voice rising above the clamor. "The main Amatan line is falling back!"

"Don't be fooled! This is not over!" Arthur shouted back, not a moment too soon.

Because on the other side of the battlefield, all hell broke loose.

* * *

There was a simple reason for the sorcerers' delay in joining the battle. Alvarr and Morgana had started fighting.

Since he had joined the Cunning One's band of rogues, Mordred had learned that Alvarr and Morgana arguing was nothing new and to be expected at least once a day, if not more. Kara rolled her eyes and called it foolishness, but added that as long as plans came out of it, it didn't matter.

This fight was different.

It began shortly after the battle started, with Alvarr demanding, in front of everyone, to know exactly what he was getting out of allying with Sarrum for Morgana. Morgana scoffed at him and told him he already knew. He said he didn't, and suspected that she was just leading him on. This prompted a "How does it feel, Alvarr?" from Morgana, which enraged Alvarr to the point of sending a malicious spell Morgana's way. She blocked it, then addressed the rogue sorcerers around them, asking them where their true loyalties lay: with a High Priestess of the Old Religion or with a man who had struggled for years but never managed to bring about the grand coup of Camelot that he'd promised his followers.

Most sided with Morgana, Mordred and Kara included. Those who didn't...

Mordred stayed out of it, and convinced Kara to as well. They watched as the minority were turned upon and slain where they stood, leaving only Alvarr bound by magic and kneeling before the witch.

"Oh, Alvarr," she cooed, "I never trusted you, not since I realized what you were. Not the brave leader I thought you were once, no…A sly trickster, nothing more. I am sorry…but there is only room for one leader here. Our friends and I will destroy both the Sarrum and Arthur, and I will claim the throne and riches of two kingdoms." Her smile widened. "Magic will return to the land, and my mission will be complete."

Alvarr stared straight into her eyes the whole time, his gaze almost rueful. "Morgana…you are powerful now, but you were far more beautiful when you were innocent."

Her smile disappeared, and with a golden flash of her eyes and a snap, the Cunning One was no more.

Then there were explanations and promises from Morgana, and oaths from the sorcerers that remained. Finally, they joined the battle.

Staying out of sight on one of the rocky hills, Morgana began to rain fireballs down upon Camelot's forces. The others charged into the battle, using metal weapons and magic alike to tear through the red ranks. Mordred fought alongside Kara, attempting to protect her. He concentrated on making sure she was not hurt in the turmoil. It was easier than concentrating on the fact that he kept striking down men whose faces he recognized.

_They are your enemies. This is for the cause of magic. This is the right thing to do._ Every assurance he offered himself fell flat.

Somehow, he and Kara were separated from the others, fighting back-to-back in a sea of enemies. Numbed by the noise and stench of battle, Mordred ceased thinking, fighting with instinct and skill alone.

_Mordred!_

The scream came so suddenly, so painfully, that for a moment Mordred couldn't understand it. Then he spun around, his sword falling from his hand as he reached for Kara, who was falling, blood pouring from her throat, her hands struggling to stem the flow of red.

They were on the ground, surrounded by enemies. He lifted his horrified gaze from Kara to locate the man who had wounded her, a man he recognized distantly from days on the training field.

The former druid's scream ripped through the air, scattering men like leaves.

"Kara…"

_Mordred_ …Her pale hands grasped at her neck weakly.  _Make them pay…_

"No…Kara, no, you can't…"

_Avenge me, Mordred…destroy them_ …Her body shuddered in his arms as her deep blue eyes met his one last time.  _Mordred, I lo…_ Her voice fell silent.

A flood of tears burned paths down Mordred's face as he lowered Kara to the ground. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers. "I love you, Kara," he choked out, "and I will avenge you. If it takes until my dying day, I will."

He understood Morgana now. The hatred which had soured the witch now raged through him. He embraced it, welcomed it, allowed it to illuminate the path before him.

Mordred stood, picked up his sword, and stormed forward into the battle.

* * *

The little hills scattered around the main battlefield were nice to hide behind.

Leaning against a boulder near the foot of one of said hills, Gwaine struggled to catch his breath. The sorcerers had been few in number, yet they had made the battle even fiercer and bloodier than before. The army of Camelot and its tiny number of Bernician and Deiran allies were in a slow retreat from Morgana, her cronies, and the revitalized Amatans.

Gwaine had rushed straight into the middle of it all without thinking twice, tearing through the Amatan ranks with sword and spells alike. In such a desperate situation, he didn't care who saw him using magic. Chances were they were all going to die, anyway.

_Where the hell is Merlin?_

During a brief exchange with Elyan, he had learned that Merlin had gone on some errand just before the battle and had not yet returned. This was concerning on two levels: one, the Merlin Gwaine knew would never leave Arthur's side at a time like this and two, without him, they were all doomed.

_And here they say scouting is the easy job._

He took a deep breath to steady himself and was preparing to rejoin the fray when he heard a yell and a thud from nearby. Moving around a rocky outcropping, he saw a knight slump to the ground, having just been impaled by the blade of the black-clad man standing over him. Gwaine stepped forward, ready to attack, but stopped when the man turned towards him. " _Mordred_?"

The soft-spoken young man he'd met once before was almost unrecognizable. His blue eyes were like flames, burning in hatred, his face contorted in rage. "Lord Gwaine, if I'm not mistaken," he hissed.

"What the hell happened to you?" Gwaine took a step back, confused.  _Last I checked, he was a knight of Camelot…Now he's dressed like one of Morgana's minions…_

Mordred didn't answer. "Whose side are you one?"

"Currently? Arthur's."

Mordred snorted. "I regret having to kill you, then." He lunged forward.

Gwaine easily parried the first blow, then took a chance and yelled, " _ **Ástríce!**_ " Mordred managed to block the spell, but lost his footing in the process.

_He didn't expect me to use magic. Again, what happened to him? He seemed decent..._ Gwaine hesitated to follow up on his attack, then regretted it as Mordred's eyes flashed gold and sent him slamming into a nearby boulder.  _Damn it…_

His vision blurry, he saw Mordred walking towards him. "I am sorry. I rather liked you."

Then Mordred looked up, let out a yell, and was tackled by something large and white and smelling of smoke.

Gwaine shut his eyes for a few seconds, convinced he was hallucinating, then opened them again to find a piercing set of blue orbs staring into his own.  _Hello, Gwaine._

"A..Aithusa?" Pushing himself into a sitting position, he stuttered, "How…When…What…"

Her voice in his head sounded ridiculously happy.  _I came with the Dragonlord. And Kilgharrah._

Gwaine was still processing that when he heard a distant feminine shriek.

" _Emrys!_ "

It was followed by a bolt of lightning.


	35. Chapter 34

Aithusa took flight as Gwaine jumped to his feet and stumbled out from behind the hill, not even sparing a glance for the crumpled form of Mordred.

_The Dragonlord just threw Morgana from her perch to the field!_  Aithusa's voice rang clear in his mind as Gwaine took in the scene before him.

Many of the soldiers, those of Camelot and those of Amata, had ceased fighting and were staring across the field, towards another hill on which stood a figure in a red robe, white hair and beard blowing in the breeze. Beyond him, near where Gwaine was fairly sure the Amatan camp was located, hovered a magnificent golden dragon. Judging by the smoke and flames underneath him, the Amatan camp wasn't going to exist much longer.

Lighting flashed once more as the sorcerer on the hillside raised his hand. The white-hot energy snaked towards the Amatan line, throwing rows of men aside like they weighed nothing.

Gwaine suddenly recalled a chance meeting of four knights and an old sorcerer that had ended badly for the men who carried actual weapons.

_"Ah. Gentlemen. What a pleasant surprise!"_

He began to laugh out loud.  _Merlin, you are extraordinary._

As more lightning bolts hurtled down from the churning sky and the men on the battlefield resumed their fighting, Gwaine thought,  _And definitely terrifying._

Running back into the battle, it was evident to him that the Amatans were now the ones retreating. Emrys...or Merlin, rather…was showing them no mercy. The sorcerers that had been causing so much trouble for Camelot's army only minutes before were now either running away or being dealt with at a distance by the warlock. Gwaine glimpsed Arthur, leading the charge after the fleeing Amatans, though it didn't look like they had anywhere to flee to. Far behind the lines, their encampment was being destroyed by a massive dragon, and who knew where Sarrum was.

_Gwaine, look out!_  Heeding the white dragon's warning, Gwaine spun around just in time to counter a blow from an enemy soldier. He reached for his magic, eager to rejoin the battle proper as soon as possible. " _ **Ástríce!**_ **"**

As expected, his opponent flew backwards. What Gwaine did not expect was the surge of exhaustion which overtook him. The sudden weakness brought him to his knees, unable, for several terrifying seconds, to move at all.

_Gwaine!_  Aithusa landed near him and began snarling at anyone who came too close. Not too many did as most of the fighting had moved further along the battlefield. Even so, he was glad she was there; he was having trouble even breathing.

_I went too far. Damn magic._ He'd been physically exhausted many times before, but this went deeper than that. It felt as if his very essence had been drained to empty.

"Gwaine!" Managing to lift and turn his head, he saw Haralda, still mounted with a bloodied axe in hand, staying a fair distance back from the dragon. "Are you all right?" she shouted.

"I'll be fine! Go!" The princess nodded her head once and spurred her horse away.

Every movement a struggle, Gwaine forced himself to his feet, only to end up leaning heavily on both his sword and Aithusa.  _Are you all right?_  the dragon asked.

"Not…sure." he panted, unable to summon the energy to speak mind-to-mind. "I…I think I used to much magic. And hit my head…that couldn't have helped…" He groaned and slid back to the ground, the plain and sky swimming in his vision like he'd downed a barrel of mead. "I think I'll take a nap now."

_On a battlefield?_

"Hey, if I look dead, nobody will kill me." Something was surely off about that logic, but Gwaine was too tired to care.

Aithusa disappeared from his side with a flapping of wings. Gwaine closed his eyes.

Unconsciousness hadn't claimed him yet when the dragon's voice entered his head again.  _Gwaine, I see Morgana! She's cornered Arthur Pendragon and a couple of his knights! I think the Dragonlord's seen it…he's heading that way…_

Panic flooded through Gwaine, clashing with the fatigue dragging him down.  _Aithusa_ …he managed to say, struggling to open his eyes again… _stay out of it…_

Everything went black.

* * *

_Shock._

Why would Dragoon, after being threatened and branded as an enemy, fight on the side of Camelot? It made less sense then Gwaine showing up with his uncle's knights and joining in against the Amatans.

_Fury._

Dragoon may very well have caused Uther's death, despite Gauis's insistence to the contrary. Dragoon had lied, conspired against everything Camelot stood for. He used magic, a weapon that always seemed to be used for evil.

_Relief._

He knew that without the old sorcerer and the dragons he'd brought with him... _I really want to know how the golden was still alive_...the battle would have been lost. So instead of rushing into a confrontation with the sorcerer, Arthur called to his men, leading their charge against their enemies as magic spells of immense power aided them in tearing the remaining Amatan ranks apart.

Arthur was near one of the rockiest of the small hills, dealing with a couple straggling adversaries when Percival and Elyan joined him. A minute later, opponents dealt with, the three men took a moment to catch their breaths. Elyan said, "We ran into Sarrum a bit ago."

"So he  _finally_  got his hands dirty, did he?" Arthur scoffed. "Coward."

"He won't be getting his hands dirty in any way anymore," Percival said quietly.

Arthur looked from the larger knight to Elyan, who nodded. Taking a deep breath, the Pendragon said, "His kingdom is well rid of him."

"And yours soon will be well rid of you."

Arthur spun around as flames rose up on either side, trapping him and the two knights between the rocks and a wall of fire. In front of them, her dress tattered and burnt, her hair filthy and ragged, Morgana stood, a manic smile on her face. "Oh, dear brother. You may have won the battle, but the war will be mine."

With a flick of her wrist, she sent Percival and Elyan skidding backwards and smacking against the rocks behind them, where they remained, held by magic.  _Trapped, but thankfully alive for now. She won't let it stay that way for long_...Arthur raised his sword and sprang forward, only to have his weapon wrenched from his hands and to be shoved to his knees by magic. "The people will never accept you, Morgana," he gasped out. "The throne of Camelot will never be yours."

She sneered down at him, the light of the flames highlighting her gaunt face. "We shall see. But first, Arthur, you die."

He stared at her, blue meeting grey-green, feeling hatred…and pity. For he had known this woman since they were children. He had seen her smiling and laughing in real joy at simple things. He had seen her vulnerable, begging him for help when the occasion demanded it. He had seen her defend innocents against their father time and again.

He had not seen, or at least not noticed, her descent into evil and madness. But he had seen the aftermath. He saw… _this_. "Morgana…" he whispered, daring to reach out, just one more time, for the woman who had been more of his sister before they knew they were related by blood.

Her face contorted as she stepped back, lifting her hand. "Your death will not be easy nor swift, Arthur. But I'll be right beside you the whole time." Her smile returned as she opened her mouth to cast a spell.

" _Get away from him!_ "

The flames surrounding them disappeared like a candle being blown out. Morgana whipped around and Arthur gaped as the old sorcerer strode up to them, his cerulean eyes blazing.

" _You_!" Morgana screamed. "You…you betray your kind, hide behind that ancient mask!"

"It's over, Morgana." There was more than anger in the old man's voice…could it be sorrow?  _His voice…He's always seemed so familiar…_

"It's not over," Morgana snarled, then froze. A few seconds passed during which the only sounds were distant clangs, shouts, and screams from what was left of the battle. Arthur thought he sighted a small white dragon wheeling high above. "Show him who you really are," the witch said.

The sorcerer seemed to ignore her words. "You've lost, Morgana. You have no allies, no friends. Do you not see what you've become? Even Aithusa, who suffered with you for two years in the dark, left you because of _your_ darkness."

"Show Arthur who you really are!" Morgana shrieked, her voice cracking. "Or…" She let out a hysterical laugh, "…or you are nothing but a coward."

Dragoon looked stricken. His gaze moved slowly from Morgana to the two knights trapped against the rocks, then finally to Arthur.

_I know you_ …Arthur thought as he stared into those piercing blue eyes.  _I've always known you, somehow…_

After a stare that seemed to last hours, Dragoon took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and murmured a few words. As his eyes opened, they glowed pure gold.

Nothing happened for a moment. Then his beard began to shrink to nothing, his hair retracting into his head and turning raven black. His wrinkled face became smooth, young. Yet his expression, one of pure painful resignation, remained the same as his visage morphed into one that Arthur knew as well as his own.

"… _Merlin_?" 

Morgana laughed, high and shrill. "See your great protector, Arthur Pendragon! Unmasked as the traitor he is!"

_No…not Merlin, he can't…he can't have magic, I'd know…this isn't happening…it's a trick…_

Merlin thrust out his hand, and Arthur's sword flew into his grasp. "I'm sorry, Morgana. I once thought I could save you. I was wrong."

"I am a High Priestess, Emrys! No mortal blade can slay me!"

"That is true." Merlin stabbed her with the sword. She gasped sharply. Even from behind, Arthur could see her body stiffen in pain.

"This blade was forged in a dragon's breath," Merlin said softly. "Goodbye, Morgana."

Morgana let out a whimper as her legs gave out. Merlin gently lowered her to the ground, his expression frozen as she took her last breath.

The invisible force which had held Arthur in a kneeling position vanished. The groans of the knights told him that they too had been released. The king stood, unable to concentrate on anything but the man before him.

Merlin…gangling, clumsy, idiotic  _Mer_ lin…still clad in the red robe of a sorcerer, stared right back, Arthur's sword hanging limply in one hand.

The Pendragon had too many questions to form into words, but the only one that came out was, " _Why_?"

"I was born with it." Merlin's gaze didn't waver. "I wanted to tell you. But I was afraid, and rightly so."

"I can't deny that."  _I would have had him executed…Or would've I?_

"I only ever used it to protect you, Arthur. Morgana found a way to take my magic…to regain it I had to leave; that's why I didn't come here with you…It was…is my duty, my destiny to protect you. And I have done so, since the very beginning." Merlin stepped close, holding out the sword for Arthur to take. "If you cannot accept that, then kill me now, because I can't hide anything anymore." He was so calm as he said it, it was frightening.

_Rather like how he can destroy rows of men with a wave of his hand._

Arthur took the sword, his mind reeling.  _Merlin…magic…evil…corrupt…traitor…how dare he?_  Recalling every instance magic had been used against him, Arthur pictured Merlin in the place of all those other sorcerers.  _That could've been him. He betrayed me! The one person I've always been able to trust…_

Then other memories assailed him. Images of branches inexplicably falling, magical creatures being mysteriously dispatched, Morgana's plots being foiled over and over again by pure luck…or by someone hiding in the shadows. The look on Merlin's face as he outed himself as a sorcerer to save Gwen, though he wasn't guilty at all. The expression he bore when Arthur first suggested to him that perhaps magic wasn't entirely evil. The horrified way Dragoon had looked at dying Uther.

The way Merlin was always there, even when things seemed hopeless.

_He betrayed me…and he saved me. Over and over again. How many times, I wonder?_

Arthur looked away from Merlin, turning instead to Percival and Elyan, who had remained quiet during the entire exchange.  _I'm grateful for that._  "It seems the Amatans are thoroughly routed, but we should check. Then we'll start sorting out the wounded and dead, since there's no king of Amata left to parley with."

The two knights nodded. "We'll get right to it, Sire," Elyan said, and they hurried off.

Arthur walked slowly over to where Morgana's body lay, looking down at it with equal parts pity and relief.  _It's over. It's finally over._

"Arthur?"

_He sounds so timid_. Arthur looked at his manservant. "Take off that robe, Merlin. You look bloody ridiculous." He made to walk past the other man.

"But…Arthur…"

The king halted, looking back at… _My protector? My best friend? My newest enemy?_  He quickly disregarded the last. "We'll sort everything out later, Merlin. For now, we have more pressing work to do."  _And I need time to think._

Merlin nodded, blinking furiously.

"Just one thing…" Arthur glanced out over the plain. The white dragon was still circling in the sky, while the golden one had landed a fair distance away and was staying more or less in one place. "Those dragons…they aren't going to eat anyone, are they?"

"Um…no. Not anyone from Camelot, at least."

"That's a relief."

Any reassurance right now was a relief.

* * *

_Merlin!_  As Arthur left him, Aithusa's delighted mental squeal broke Merlin out of his near-stupor.  _You…_ Her tone switched to sorrowful.  _Morgana's dead._

_She was already gone,_  Merlin replied, peering upward where the young dragon soared.  _You never met the real Morgana._

_Merlin!_ This voice, deeper and far more powerful, echoed almost painfully through his mind. _You destroyed the witch._

_Yes._ Merlin narrowed his eyes as he saw where Kilgharrah had finally landed.  _Are you by any chance_ sitting _on the Amatan camp?_

The Great Dragon didn't answer.  _May I suggest that the young one and I retreat to another location to avoid any further conflict?_

_Definitely. Aithusa, follow him._  Merlin hesitated.  _Kilgharrah, Arthur…he knows about my magic now. And he doesn't seem to want to pass judgment yet._

Kilgharrah didn't seem terribly troubled at this.  _I would take that as a good sign, young warlock._

_I suppose._ In a near reversal of roles, Merlin wasn't as optimistic as the old dragon.

_Wait, Merlin!_

_Yes, Aithusa?_

_Gwaine was fighting…he drained a lot of his magic, too much …he fainted, or it looked like it and I can't reach his mind now…_

Merlin started.  _What's Gwaine doing here?_  He'd noticed a few people in the battle who didn't appear to be from Camelot or Amata, but he hadn't spared them much thought in the heat of the moment.

_Fighting with Camelot, I think…_

Merlin shook himself.  _Don't worry too much, Aithusa. I'll find him. I'm sure he'll be fine._

The dragons soared off together moments later, and Merlin was left alone on the now-quiet battlefield. To the north, the last Amatans were being rounded up or dispatched. To the south, soldiers of Camelot were fanning out across the field, searching through the bodies for signs of life.

Merlin felt like he was in a dream. He had felt so alive while he used his magic in the battle, and while he faced Morgana. _Now_ …Now he felt lost, disoriented.  _My secret is out. At last._ Whether this development was for good or ill remained to be seen.

Light was coming into the sky as Merlin set off at a brisk walk towards the Camelot encampment. The battle was over, Morgana was dead, and a new day was beginning.

_A new day for Camelot, and for Albion._


	36. Chapter 35

The sun was sinking down, casting ruddy light over the Plains of Andor. Smoke from numerous campfires and the smoldering remains of the distant Amatan camp hovered low in the sky. The coppery smell of blood lingered in the air, mixing sickeningly with the smell of cooking food. Almost an entire day and night had past since Camelot's army had arrived there.

_A lot has happened since then._

Arthur, having been up for nearly three days straight with constant planning, traveling, and battling, wanted nothing more than to collapse in a quiet spot and sleep for a year. But some things needed attending to first.

He took one last look around the former battlefield, now cleared of bodies. The fallen from Camelot had been moved and prepared for burial reverently, the killed Amatans less so. Still, the carnage was cleared, though carrion birds still hovered. Arthur allowed himself to finally slow down and think. Now that the initial cleanup was over, he had to deal with other, more difficult matters.

_Merlin…I have to decide what to do about Merlin…_

First, though, he supposed he ought to deal with whatever the hell was going on with Bernicia and Deira and their supposed war on Amata which he somehow knew nothing about.  _Well, it's a fair question if Sarrum knew himself, given his actions in invading Camelot._

The only thing he had managed to get out of the curly-haired axe-woman was, "Ask Gwaine. Whenever he recovers from  _fainting_  on a damn  _battlefield_." She'd been giving orders to the "scouting group" since the incident. A couple scouts had been sent to Amata with with word of the battle; the others had assisted in clearing the battlefield. Apparently, Gwaine had collapsed during the latter stages of the battle and had been brought to the Camelot camp to recuperate. Arthur had heard that he'd woken up, alive and well, around mid-morning. The king hadn't spoken to him yet.

_He wasn't the greatest conversationalist when he was one of my knights, that is if you wanted intelligent conversation. Now I have to treat him like a diplomat from another kingdom. Which, in a sense, he is. Given the situation._

Arthur finally headed back to the camp. Once there, he arranged a meeting in his private tent and managed to gulp down some stew while he awaiting the people he'd asked to come.  _When was the last time I ate, again? I_ n these situation, Merlin generally would track him down and force food upon him at regular intervals. But since the battle, Arthur had only seen his manservant a few times, and only at a distance.  _He's avoiding me…and I can't blame him for it. Not given…well, everything…_

Guinevere was the first to arrive, seeming pleased that he was eating something but insisting that he have some bread as well. Listening to his wife scolding him for not taking adequate care of himself yet again, Arthur recalled what he'd heard about her defending the wounded from Amatans who had infiltrated the camp during the battle.  _My Gwen, kind but tougher than many men…I wonder how she'll take the news about Merlin?_

Or did she already know? It was possible; she'd been friends with Merlin long before Arthur had any close contact with her.  _She wouldn't hide it from me, would she?_

He might have asked her directly if it weren't for the arrival of Gaius and Leon, the former barely able to stand and the latter looking extremely disheveled and not caring the least about it. Shortly after Gaius had been ushered into a chair by Gwen and Leon had confirmed that almost all of Camelot's fallen had been accounted for, Percival and Elyan arrived, with Gwaine and the axe-woman just behind, bickering quietly.

Watching the very teasing, familial way they interacted, Arthur had a suspicion that he knew who the woman was.

He coughed to get everyone's complete attention and said, "Thank you for coming. I wanted to keep this as small and quiet as possible for the time being."

_It's too small by one, though. Merlin should be here, hovering by my shoulder._ Then again, given that both Percival and Elyan knew what the manservant was now, perhaps it was for the best that he wasn't there.  _And Gaius surely knows. That would explain so much. Perhaps Gwaine does as well._

This angered Arthur, but he reminded himself that Merlin's magic wasn't supposed to be the main focus of this meeting. "First of all…Gwaine, would you care to introduce us to your…charming companion here?"

The curly-haired woman gave him a dirty look. Meanwhile, Gwaine did the same to her. "You  _didn't_  tell him who you were."

"I didn't want to," she replied with a shrug. "And as I was in command after you  _fainted_ , it was my decision on what to and what not to tell him."

"I didn't faint; I fell asleep!"

" _On a battlefield_. Father's right; you're insane."

"Takes one to know one."

"Shut up."

The knights and Gwen seemed amused. Impatient, Arthur sighed and cleared his throat.

Gwaine glanced at him. "Sorry. This is my cousin Haralda. You may remember that the twins mentioned her."

Arthur nodded. "So you're a princess."

"Yes." She tossed her head, swinging her hair back over her shoulder.

The others seemed a mixture of shocked and curious.  _Except for Gaius,_ Arthur noted. Gwen asked, "And you ride into battle often?"

"When it suits me."

"We met you," Percival said suddenly, staring at her. "In Camelot. Weeks ago."

Comprehension dawned on Elyan's face. "Yes…You talked to us…you said your name was Hazel!"

Gwaine looked ready to throttle her. "You  _talked_  to them. That's…that's the height of stupidity, Haralda."

"Something which you would know plenty about," Haralda said. "They seemed normal enough. Not haughty at all. I didn't expect that."

"What were you doing in Camelot in the first place?" Arthur demanded.

"I was accompanying my aunt, who was visiting that physician and his ward." Haralda gestured to Gaius. "If you must blame someone, blame Aunt Ela. Or the white dragon. Or your sorcerer-Dragonlord manservant."

Arthur quickly looked to the others for their reactions. On Gaius's face, he saw the expected resignation. Gwen's mouth opened, then shut as she pressed her lips tightly together, looking at Arthur with worried eyes.  _So she must know, or maybe she suspected…_ Elyan and Percival, of course, had already had time to process the revelation since the battle. Leon, however, remained frozen, his expression blank.

Gwaine muttered something to Haralda, who answered with a curse. Everyone else remained quiet until Arthur said cautiously, "Sir Leon?"

The blond knight blinked. "That would explain the dragon. Which didn't die." He sounded calm enough.

_Yes, it certainly would. But there are more pressing matters at hand._ Well, fine, there weren't really; but there were issues he'd much rather think about at present than the fact that under his own laws he was required to execute his servant.  _And I'm even going to ask about the white dragon right now._ Pushing all that aside, the king said, "We lost about a third of our forces, with many more wounded." His heart felt heavy as he thought of the waste of life. Looking to Gwaine, he asked, "How many of your group were injured seriously?"

"Two dead, six wounded. One far worse than the others."

"I just saw him," Gaius spoke up. "I have a feeling he'll make it, despite his age."

"Sir Randal _is_ a tough one." Gwaine turned to Arthur. "I'm sure you're wondering about Bernicia's war with Amata?"

"Well, yes."

"The Sarrum's ships have been preying on Deiran coastal villages for months now," Haralda said. "We have a close alliance with Deira…My brother Aldwyn is married to King Edlin's daughter Braeden…you remember my brother, I'm sure, Pendragon."

Arthur grimaced. "I usually don't forget people who ban me from their kingdom when they're not even sure if they'll live to see the next day."

"Anyway," Gwaine interjected, "They've probably sacked Amata's main city by now. We were keeping an eye on Sarrum's forces, which are now practically nonexistent. The sea attacks will also cease without him around, so it's all worked out well enough."

"Indeed it has." said Arthur. "I suppose I owe you and your men a thank you. If you hadn't come when you did…we might have lost the battle."

"Emrys… _Merlin_  would've taken care of it." Gwaine said levely.

"Not without much more loss, I'm sure," Gwen put in.

Gwaine half-smiled at her comment. "We did what we could, my lady."

Arthur watched his former knight carefully, but it wasn't him who asked the next question. "You knew about Merlin?" Elyan said.

"Since the day I met him." Gwaine looked amused. "Some of you lot wouldn't know magic if it hit you over the head...no offense. I saw him use magic in a tavern brawl. He didn't know I knew for a while."

_Good God, did Merlin really use magic that much? And I never noticed?_

Elyan looked satisfied with that answer, but Leon broke in with a question of his own. "Gwaine, I think we can all admit that you and your men and your…cousin helped us greatly in the battle, but I must ask…" He hesitated, looking very uncomfortable. "In that dungeon, two years ago, when everything came out about who you are…why did you lie and say you didn't have magic?"

Gwaine stiffened, and Arthur felt his jaw drop. "What are you talking about, Leon?" he managed to stammer. Gaius again looked resigned, while Gwen's eyes widened in shock.

"You didn't see him during that part of the battle, Arthur," Percival said. "When we were forced into retreat, before the sor…before Merlin showed up…Gwaine was throwing spells around as well as using his sword. He nearly hit me once."

"Sorry about that, mate." Gwaine looked sincerely apologetic. "My aim's far from perfect."

"You lied to me…to  _us_  about that too?" Arthur felt a wave of rage rising inside him. "What type of game are you playing?"

Gwaine met his gaze. "I didn't lie to you about my magic, Arthur, because when I last saw you I didn't have it. It's complicated and I don't want to discuss it right now, but rest assured I'm telling the truth. I'm not playing any sort of game. My country's at war with Amata, or was, so when I saw Camelot soldiers fighting Amatans and losing, I made a decision. One of my uncle's knights is dead because of it, and one of Edlin's, so I'm well aware of how serious it is. Why did I join in at all? Because I suspected Morgana was involved, and I knew how brutal Sarrum was. And I thought you were better than them. You  _can_ still prove me right."

Arthur had no idea how to answer to that, and was relieved when Gwen said, "What about Bernicia and Deira? We have cordial relations with Deira already, but perhaps Bernicia can become an ally after this?"

"When hell freezes over." Haralda sounded almost sorry. "Father's not impressed with Pendragon's in general. I doubt that will change even after all this. Edlin won't make a stand on it."

"Don't be so quick to dismiss the possibility. Aldwyn would be on our side. My father, too. Harlan listens to him."

"Your father married a sorceress who fled the Great Purge. You  _sure_  he'll be on our side, cousin?"

The reminder of Gwaine's mother, one of the many whose lives had been destroyed in Uther's quest to obliterate magic, pained Arthur as he realized he'd been part of that.  _I'm not innocent in this. Not at all._

"From what I heard from your mother, Gwaine, your father is not a foolish man," Gaius said. "He'd understand the benefits of an alliance."

"Is that true, Gwaine?" Leon asked.

"Gwaine's father would make a better king that mine, if he'd just been born first." Haralda said harshly. "If anyone would understand…I suppose Aldwyn would too. He's been listening more to Uncle Goddard lately. And don't look at me like that, Gwaine. King Harlan's _my_ father; I can say what I want about him."

_That's rather...Is she always like this?_

"Perhaps Arthur could help him reconsider his opinions of Pendragons?" Gwen suggested. "A meeting in a neutral place would be a good start."

As a king, Arthur was used to doing things he'd really rather not, namely dealing with people that, given a choice, he would rather avoid. King Harlan Barclayn was high up on his list of "people to avoid".  _But he likely did just destroy what was left of Sarrum's defenses, which was…helpful, to say the least._ "How long do you think Harlan will remain in Amata, Gwaine?"

"Few days, maybe."

"That would give us enough time to ride there and speak with him. That is," Arthur hesitated, "if you think that would be a wise course of action?"

"You're asking me what I think is a wise course of action?" Gwaine grinned. "Haralda, I think hell just froze over."

"That's not the point," Arthur said.  _Now he_ is _being idiotic…_

"I know, Arthur." Gwaine's smile faded. "The point is, Harlan didn't like your father, and he thinks you're the same, so therefore he doesn't like you either. However, you just defeated Sarrum. That should shift the odds a bit. Due to…recent disagreements, Aldwyn is more likely to listen to me than usual. And Edlin is around, so that helps. Together we stand a fair chance of convincing him to at least talk to you, and if you convince him you're not a total prat…he might actually listen to what you have to say."

"Well…" Arthur glanced around the tent. Gwen looked pleased, Gaius looked too exhausted to care, and the knights looked worried. "…I guess some of us will be riding to Amata tomorrow."

* * *

The sky was beautiful that night; the sinking sun dyed the clouds vivid shades of gold, pink, and purple, while streams of fading light cast a golden glow over the landscape.

Upon one of the rounded hills, Merlin stood alone by a long, low cairn. He didn't say anything over the body he'd just buried by himself. No one else had wanted anything to do with it...with  _her_.

He still felt lost, as if his purpose had been stripped from him with the defeat of his greatest enemy.  _Kilgharrah says I've ensured the future of Albion, but what happens now?_ Until Arthur decided what to do with him, he didn't think he could even dare to imagine what came next.  _Perhaps, since I turned the tide during the battle…he won't kill me. But is it too late to bring magic back to Camelot?_

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the sight of a figure ascending the hill towards him. When said figure came close enough, Merlin said, "Hello, Gwaine."

"Merlin." Gwaine sat down on a nearby rock. "The witch is dead, then," he said, gesturing towards the cairn.

"Yeah." Merlin averted his gaze from the rock pile. "How are you feeling? Gaius said there was nothing physically wrong with you…though Aithusa was worried…"

"I'm fine. I used too much magic at once and knocked myself out is all." Gwaine's brow furrowed. "And now it doesn't work. The magic, I mean."

"It's gone?" 

"No…it's still there; I can sense it. It just won't work properly." Gwaine glanced down at the grass by his feet and muttered a spell. Nothing happened. He didn't seem very put out. "It's alright. I can wait for it to start working again…or not. I've lived most of my life without it, after all."

"Many sorcerers can't use too many spells without exhausting themselves," Merlin said. "I mean, if a normal sorcerer were to continue using magic for hours and hours without stopping, he'd eventually drain himself and be unable to focus or use it properly until he recuperated. I guess you're in an extreme version of that situation."

"Probably. Now, to the real issue. Arthur knows."

Merlin swallowed with some difficulty. "Yes. Arthur knows."

"Morgana forced you to reveal yourself."

"How did you…"

"Found out Elyan and Percival were there and got it out of them." Gwaine eyed him. "Are you all right, Merlin?"

"I'll be okay…whenever Arthur decides what he wants to do…"

"I told him if he absolutely had to get rid of you, he could exile you and you could come live in Bernicia. You'd be welcome there."

Merlin smiled crookedly. "Thanks. I appreciate that. But I can't leave Arthur…unless he decides to kill me."

"I'd kill him first." Before Merlin could protest, Gwaine continued, "We…the scouting group, that is…are heading back to Amata tomorrow. Arthur and a few of his knights are coming with us, to try and arrange an alliance with my uncle. Queen Guinevere will be taking control until he returns. The alliance was her idea."

Surprised, Merlin said "And you agreed to it? I thought…"

"Here's the thing, Merlin." Gwaine glanced at the cairn in front of them. "On the way back to Bernicia after that dragon business…I ran into Morgana and her cronies in the woods. I panicked and used magic to defend myself…she recognized me and that started a whole conversation during which I was sure I was going to die. The gist was that once she saw I had magic and found out I was no longer a knight of Camelot, she wanted me to join her. I barely got away." Gwaine shuddered. "But while I was talking to her…She reminded me of Uther. And I got to thinking about Arthur and the ways he's  _not_  like Uther. And I remembered what she did to Camelot both times she got control there…Plus, Arthur hasn't tried to kill you yet. I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt on this one."

"Let me get this straight. After nearly getting killed by Morgana…you decided Arthur's not so bad?" Merlin shook his head in disbelief. "You think your uncle will take that view?"

"I'll convince him. Or I'll convince Aldwyn, who'll convince him for me. He's been helpful…Harlan got the mad idea to bring Hayden and some of his wyverns down to Amata with the army. Aldwyn and I tried to talk him out of it…Hayden still got dragged along. 'Fore I left, Aldwyn promised to keep him alive."

"Is King Harlan crazy?" Merlin demanded. "Wyverns aren't made for war…I don't think Hayden is either…that rescue two years ago was different…"

"That's what I said. Uncle didn't listen." Gwaine sighed heavily. "My sister's in love with Hayden."

"That was…sudden."

"Tell me about it. I don't mind, though. She couldn't have picked a better man than Hayden Wyverndomitor. I just hope he's still alive…" He stood up.

Realizing the light was rapidly fading from the sky, Merlin said, "We'd better be getting back to the camp."

"Yeah." Before they started down the hill, Gwaine said, "She was your friend, wasn't she? Morgana, I mean."

Merlin looked back at the rock pile one last time. "Once, yes. A long time ago."

They spent the walk back to the camp catching each other up on what had happened since they last saw each other. Gwaine spoke mostly about his family, to which Merlin reacted with both amusement and concern... _"So your sister spent some time alone with Hayden and now she's completely smitten…Wait, Everard nearly died?"._ Merlin explained the details of the botched treaty with Amata to which Gwaine responded, "Arthur seriously believed you took out three people with your bare hands? _Damn_ , he is thick sometimes."

When they reached the camp, Gwaine said goodnight to Merlin out loud, but added telepathically,  _Merlin, if you need…_ help _with Arthur, let me know._

_Thank you, Gwaine. But I'll be fine._

Yet it was with some reluctance that Merlin headed towards the royal tent, meeting Gaius coming out of it as he approached.

"Merlin, my dear boy." The physician pulled Merlin into a tight embrace, which he returned. "We all owe you our lives, once again," the older man said as he pulled away.

"I hope Arthur sees it that way," Merlin said. "Is he in there?"

"Yes, just him and Gwen." After a moment of silence, Gaius said gently, "Merlin, if you don't wish to face him right now…"

"No. I'm not hiding anymore." Merlin squeezed his guardian's shoulder and ducked inside the tent.

Arthur and Gwen were standing near the center of the tent, conversing in low tones. They looked over when Merlin entered. "Merlin!" The queen hurried forward and gave him an unexpected hug. "We were worried about you! When you didn't come with us from Camelot…"

Merlin tried to smile down at his friend as she stepped back, a warm feeling spreading through him as he realized that Gwen had to know about his magic by this point, but didn't seem to be treating him any differently. Then he looked to the king. "Sire."

"Merlin." Arthur took a deep breath. "I hope you'll be ready to ride with me tomorrow?"

"I…Sire?"

"To Amata. I need a manservant on the journey. We're going to negotiate with King Harlan. And King Edlin, who won't be an issue, I don't think."

"Of course, I heard from Gwaine…You want me to come?" Confusion, and no small amount of hope, swept through Merlin.

Arthur looked away. "I'm…I'm still not sure what to do about you and your…talents, Merlin. But you saved my… _our_ lives." He put his arm around his wife's shoulders. "We will not forget it."

"You've done so much for us, Merlin, probably more than we know, if Gaius's hints are to be believed," Gwen added.

Merlin instantly felt worried. "And he won't be punished for…"

Arthur cut him off. "Certainly not. Gaius has been court physician for my entire life. My father treated him poorly on many occasions, and yet his loyalty never wavered. You…you were Gaius's ward. He was protecting you, and I can understand that."

"Then…is there anything you require, my lord?"

"No, not tonight. Go get some rest."

The warlock turned to leave, but Arthur's voice called him back, "Merlin!"

"Yes, Sire?"

Arthur looked exceedingly uncomfortable. "Those dragons…"

"They won't harm anyone."

"That's not what I meant…I meant to ask you…"

"I'm a Dragonlord," Merlin blurted out. "Just another one of my many talents."

Arthur almost smiled, then grew serious again as he asked, "Balinor…was he…"

"Yes. He was my father."

Looking down, Arthur said, "I'm…I'm so sorry. Truly."

Stiffly, Merlin nodded and left. There was so much left to say, but now was not the time.

* * *

Hayden was about to go raving mad.

The stench of battle had yet to fade, and he feared he'd never be able to clear the smell from his mind. Diamond had torn part of his left wing and couldn't fly straight, and Emerald had multiple gashes on his chest and belly. One of Citrine's forelegs was mangled, and she was mourning for her mate Obsidian. Others might just see a wounded animal in pain when they saw her dull eyes and sluggish movements, but Hayden knew better.

And Crown Prince Aldwyn was dead.

His death had destroyed the glory of victory for many, or so Hayden observed from a distance as he stayed separate from everyone else. The knights were lethargic and irascible. King Harlan was withdrawn and mostly stayed in his tent, occasionally losing his temper and screaming loud enough to scare the birds from the trees at whoever dared to irritate him. Prince Elwin wandered around looking like he was crying his eyes out at intervals.

The only useful person was Everard. He was the one who ordered the Bernician soldiers into line. He was the one who coordinated with Edlin to clean up the battlefield and divide the spoils of war. He was the one who decreed that anyone who harmed an Amatan civilian without due cause would be punished severely. This had come up after a Bernician knight had tried to take advantage of an Amatan woman. One of Edlin's knights had interfered, and Everard had taken it from there.

His actual words had been, "Touch any Amatan without provocation, and I will personally see to it that you never walk again." Hayden had been lucky enough to hear that speech.

_He's seventeen and taking on the burden of a grown man, because his father is too busy mourning and his older sister and cousin aren't here to take over._

Hayden would feel impressed at how well Everard was managing, however he was having trouble feeling anything but anxious…and disgusted.

Everything disgusted him. The knights, the soldiers, the aftermath of the battle…everything stank, and the men were too loud, too much. The immediate danger was gone, but he kept having panic attacks which robbed him of his breath and his ability to think straight.

Night had come once again, but Hayden couldn't sleep. The wyverns couldn't, either. Citrine was whimpering nonstop. Diamond couldn't get comfortable and kept shifting around, scales rasping. Curling up against Emerald, Hayden tried to breathe slowly and steadily, willing himself to fall asleep.

It didn't work, and then Emerald started to growl. Hayden sat up, glimpsing a dark figure approaching in the dim light. "Who's there?"

"It's just me." Prince Everard came close enough for his features to be visible. "How are your pets?"

Hayden stroked Emerald's neck as the beast's growls slowly faded. "Well enough."

"Can they travel?"

"They could. Slower than normal, but they could."

"Good. Then you return to Bernicia in the morning."

Hayden's bewilderment must have showed, for Everard explained, "I've arranged a small escort for you and the wyverns. No use having you hang around here any longer. "

"Thank you."  _I can go home…_

"I'm sorry about your wyvern. Obsidian, wasn't it? And I'm sorry you had to go through this." The regret in his voice was tangible.

_It wasn't his fault, though._ "I'm sorry about your brother."

Everard coughed. "I'll see you tomorrow, before you depart. Goodnight, Hayden."

"Goodnight, Your Highness." As the prince disappeared into the shadows again, Hayden thought,  _Nightmare's almost over for me. For now._

For the first time in a while, he managed to extract his mind from memory of battle to dwell on his home, the wyverns he'd left there, and Elen.

"I miss her," he told Emerald. The wyvern grumbled softly in response.

And though Hayden still couldn't sleep, he felt able to breathe again.


	37. Chapter 36

 

The first day of traveling with the Bernician scouting group was awkward. Arthur's knights were wary of the Bernicians and Deirans and the feeling was mutual. Merlin distanced himself from Arthur and hardly spoke to anyone at all. Gwaine was much the same. 

The next day was better. Early on, Leon, in some combination of indignation and curiosity, asked Haralda what her previous visit to Camelot and the white dragon had been about. The princess yelled at Gwaine, who was riding ahead, asking if she could "tell the story". Gwaine shouted back that he didn't give a damn at this point, so Haralda proceeded to explain the whole affair with apparent pleasure.

Merlin didn't look too happy, yet Arthur couldn't find it in himself to feel angry at the events Haralda explained.  _He_ is _a Dragonlord, after all, and he was keeping a dragon from causing havoc._ Plus it explained why the manservant had risked his master's trust just to "visit a friend", and why he had been gone so long.

After Haralda finished her tale, she kept talking to the knights. As the hours passed, a several of the ten or so knights of Camelot ventured cordial conversations with the other riders, making the atmosphere much more relaxed as they traveled onward.

Said relaxed mood shattered when they reached the city of Amata, even from a distance visibly damaged, and the company was swarmed by guards as they tried to enter the Bernician and Deiran combined encampment. 

The scouts who had been sent right after the battle had not known about the Camelot delegation. Therefore the red cloaks and Pendragon crest likely marked the men from Camelot as enemies, or at least visitors to be distrusted. It took a lot of shouting from Gwaine and Haralda to get the soldiers to back off. Something about the men struck Arthur as odd; considering they had won the battle against Amata, they seemed ill-tempered.

They didn't disband until a person Arthur belatedly recognized as a grown-up, battered-looking Everard Barclayn came rushing forward, ordering the soldiers to go back to their posts. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, and he snarled orders, even shoving a slow-moving guard to the ground.

Arthur recalled the polite, thoughtful boy he had met over two years before and wondered what had changed. Judging by Gwaine and Haralda's reactions to the young prince's behavior, said change was recent. 

They all dismounted, the knights of Camelot still a bit jumpy, and Everard had demanded loudly what exactly Arthur Pendragon was doing there.

"He's here to talk peace," Haralda said. "Where's Father?"

"In his tent. He's not going to like this at all." Everard glared in Arthur's direction.

"We know," Gwaine said dismissively. "We're hoping to convince him that not all Pendragons are the scum of the earth. Now, I need to talk to your older brother. Where is he?"

Everard's expression froze. "Aldwyn's dead." 

Arthur heard Merlin's sharp intake of breath from behind him. An outburst of muttering swept through the knights surrounding them. Haralda let out some sort of strangled yelp as her rigid stature crumpled, though she kept her balance. Gwaine didn't make a sound, but stumbled back against his horse, reaching up and gripping its mane for support.

_The anger in the soldiers makes sense now,_ Arthur realized.  _Their prince is dead._

He recalled Aldwyn Barclayn and the few weeks they'd traveled together. Mostly what he remembered was a lot of grudging courtesy from the northern prince, a fistfight between him and Gwaine, and the way he'd calmly banned Arthur and his men from entering Bernicia when they weren't even sure they would live to see the next day. It wouldn't be honest if he said he'd liked the man; circumstances and old prejudices had made that unlikely from the beginning. But respect…Arthur could have managed that. Perhaps, in a more peaceful world, they could have been allies. 

_We could have been after this war,_ he thought as he remained quiet, removed from the situation itself. Whatever regret he felt over the loss of a potential ally, he knew it was nothing compared to what Gwaine and Haralda were going through.

It was the princess who spoke next, her voice shaky but loud. "How? When? Who…"

"Near the end of the battle. A wounded Amatan took him by surprise." Everard's voice remained level, not even shaking. 

Haralda, face white, said, "The man who..."

"Elwin killed _him_."

"Is he…all right?" Haralda sounded a bit steadier. 

"He's..fine."

"What were you two even doing in the battle?" Gwaine asked roughly. He stepped closer to his cousin. "You weren't to go into the thick of it. That was what everyone said."

"We were on the edges. We were heading back to the encampment when…it happened."

"Other losses?" asked Gwaine. 

"It could have been worse," Everard replied. "Hayden survived. I sent him home yesterday. With an escort." Pause. "One of his wyverns died." Gwaine muttered what sounded like an exclamation of relief.

Arthur's confusion was mirrored by that of his knights. "That wyvern tamer came too?" Percival said.

"Yeah," said Merlin. "Gwaine told me about it. King Harlan's idea."

_Well, at least we don't have to talk to this Hayden. Or see his flying lizards._ Arthur pushed aside those thoughts as Everard approached him. "Welcome to what's left of Amata, Pendragon," he said, holding out his hand. "King Eldin will be glad to see you, I'm sure."

Arthur clasped Everard's arm. "And your father?"

"I…don't know how he'll react. He hasn't been…doing much of anything since the battle." For a second, Everard looked like a tired, frightened child, before his stony mask reappeared.

"So who's been in charge?  _You_?" Haralda asked incredulously.

"Yes." Everard looked over at her and added, "Because you and Gwaine weren't here to take care of things, I did."

Abruptly, Arthur felt very glad that his father hadn't let him have full control over more than a few men at a time until he was of age.

Minutes later, the most of the knights had scattered to tend to their horses and get some sustenance for themselves. Arthur, along with Percival, Elyan, Leon, and Merlin followed the three Barclayns to King Harlan's tent. Merlin had been about to lead the horses off when Arthur had said, "I want you to come with us, Merlin. Someone else can take care of the horses this time."  _I need your advice if things truly go badly._ The Arthur of old would have been embarrassed to admit that he valued a mere servant's advice so highly.  _Then again, he's no mere servant, and I am not the man I used to be._

Merlin seemed to understand. As they approached the royal tent, marked by its banner bearing not only a wolf but a seven-pointed star, the warlock murmured, "From what I've heard, Harlan is very loud and judgmental. I don't know how much Aldwyn's death will have affected him, but if he's anything like his normal self…"

"I understand. Tread carefully."  _And now we don't have his eldest son to help us out._ Gwaine had seemed to put much faith in  _Aldwyn will side with us_.

_No one expected him to die, I guess._

King Edlin turned out to be in the tent as well as Harlan and Prince Elwin. Slumped in his throne-like seat by a cluttered table, his grizzled head bowed, Harlan appeared quite old. Edlin was pacing in front of him, stroking his short pointed beard and muttering. Behind the seat stood Elwin, who vacated his spot, practically throwing himself onto Haralda and hugging her fiercely. She returned the embrace as the two kings looked at the new arrivals.

"You're back," Harlan said. "You lost two men?"

"Yes. One was one of your knights, Your Majesty," Gwaine said to Edlin.

"I heard." The Deiran sighed, his gaze returning to the rest of the group, eyes narrowing when he spotted Arthur.

"Six injured were left behind," Gwaine continued, "They will return home as soon as possible. And we brought visitors with us, as you can see."

Harlan nodded, seeming disinterested.

"Father," Haralda said, "This is Arthur Pendragon. Arthur, Harlan Barclayn."

Harlan's eyes widened and he stood. "You brought a  _Pendragon_?"

No one seemed inclined to answer that, but Edlin stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Arthur Pendragon. It has been many, many years."

"Indeed it has." Arthur managed a half-smile. "I trust our kingdoms are still at peace?"

"Of course! Even more so now that your forces defeated Sarrum." Edlin gave Harlan a pointed look.

The Bernician king still looked angry. "What do you want, Pendragon?"

_Here goes._ "Official peace between our kingdoms."

From his new position behind Everard, Elwin let out a surprised noise.

Harlan snorted. "Impossible."

"Your Majesty, his forces destroyed Sarrum's army," Gwaine said. "He's here asking to become our ally. He means no ill by it."

Arthur wondered if he should say something. Everard beat him to it. "I also believe he means no harm, only friendship. Camelot could be a powerful ally, Father."

The Pendragon exchanged looks with his knights. Due to Everard's initial less-than-warm reception, he hadn't been sure if the young prince would be a help or not.  _Seems he takes after his older brother._

"Uther Pendragon threatened war upon us for no decent reason. He killed his own people by the hundreds. He tried to turn the other kingdoms against us. There will be no peace with Camelot!" Harlan snarled.

_This isn't going well at all…_ Arthur glanced at Merlin; the manservant's eyes were fixed on the scene before them.

"Harlan, be reasonable!" Edlin said. "Arthur is…"

"Not his fathe,." Gwaine interrupted, his nostrils flared, his jaw clenched. "He could have turned on us after we helped him, because of who we are. Uther might've. Arthur didn't." He stepped up close to the glowering king. "You're stubborn at the best of times, Uncle. Now you're just being unreasonable. And I understand. You're mourning Aldwyn. At least you've had days to do so. Haralda and I found out a few minutes ago. Note that  _we're_ still standing."

Harlan struck him in the face. Caught off guard, Gwaine lost his balance and landed on the floor.

" _Father!_ " Everard shouted.

Taking a step back, Arthur gaped as Gwaine lunged to his feet. He didn't have a clear view of his former knight's face, but he could practically see the rage pouring off of him.

Nobody moved for a minute, during which Arthur found his gaze drawn to the table by the throne. It was shaking, rattling the maps and dishes atop it. Realizing what must be happening, he wondered if they should all vacate the tent. The way his knights were edging backwards told him they felt the same way.

" _Gwaine,_ " Merlin said lowly, prompting the other man to look at him.

A long moment passed, then Gwaine backed up against the tent wall and shut his eyes, taking slow, even breaths. The table stopped shaking. Harlan collapsed back into his seat.

"Your Majesty," Everard said, "hear Arthur out."

The old king stared at his son, then looked to Arthur and nodded.

Arthur took a deep breath. "King Harlan, I want there to be nothing but friendship between our kingdoms. What my father did…" he hesitated, his gaze flickering over to Merlin for a second before he went on, "What my father did was wrong. His threat of war, his slaughter of innocents…I know he was wrong. He started many wars, created many rifts between different kingdoms. I am not my father. I wish for peace. I am truly sorry for your loss; I understand now is a difficult time…but I am asking you to give this a chance. Give us a chance to right the wrongs of the past."

The Barclayn glanced around. "I can see you support this, Edlin. Everard?"

The prince answered readily, "Arthur Pendragon saved my life and Elwin's. He's a good man."

"I'm with them on this one," Haralda added.

Harlan sighed, sinking further into his seat. "What has the world come to?" he grumbled.

Arthur may have only met the king of Bernicia a few minutes before, but even he could tell that the battle here was won.

* * *

Official talks between the rulers of Bernicia, Deira, and Camelot would commence the following morning. Arthur had insinuated that the Great Purge had been wrong. There was time now to recover.

Almost everyone had gone to get some rest. Haralda had slipped off to join the rowdiest of the Deirans in another drinking party. Gwaine had left the encampment altogether, wandering through the nearby woods until he found an empty, isolated clearing.

He allowed himself one anguished shout, something snapping inside of him. The feeling was familiar by this point, and almost comforting.

Branches on the nearest encircling trees shattered, falling to the ground in a shower of splinters. As a flock of startled birds fled the area, the noise of their wings fading rapidly, Gwaine sat down in the middle of the clearing. His jaw stung where his uncle had hit him; doubtlessly he now had an impressive bruise. If he could sort out his emotions right now, he'd probably be angry, and maybe just a bit amused.

But he didn't know what to feel.

_Aldwyn's dead._

It felt so wrong. Aldwyn was too damn stubborn and  _alive_  to die. Yet Gwaine knew it was true; he'd as good as said it out loud himself. Perhaps it felt unreal because he hadn't been there himself. He hadn't seen it.  _I was talking about him as if he were alive days after he died._

"Aldwyn" and "dead" didn't seem to fit together, somehow.

Gwaine felt a rush of guilt.  _It should've been me…I should've been there, stopped it somehow…I should have spent more time with him when I had the chance…_

They'd been best friends, once. Things had been different between them the last two years; age and experiences had changed them both. If someone asked Gwaine who his closest friend was now, he'd have to reply that it was a toss-up between Merlin and Hayden Wyverndomitor. Still, he should have made an effort…

_"_ _I need you around when I'm king. For entertainment."_

_"Pardon me? You have Elwin for that."_

_"Well, I may also need you to train my future sons in combat…"_

Aldwyn would never be king now. Unless Braeden was with child at the moment, which was unlikely, he'd never have any sons, just the now-fatherless Princess Alison. And since Bernicia's laws dictated that upon the death of a king the throne go to the next  _male_ heir in line, the next Barclayn to wear the crown would be Everard.

_Poor kid._

Gwaine recalled Everard's newfound ferocity, Elwin's near-silence, and Harlan's weary anger. Aldwyn's death had changed them all. _Death does that._

"Gwaine?" It was Merlin. He sat down next to Gwaine and said, "The trees look worse for the wear."

"Guess my magic's back."

A pause followed. "I thought you were going to lose control. In the tent."

"Yeah. Thanks for snapping me out of it, mate."

"Anytime." Another pause. "So…came out here to destroy things far away from people?"

"And to think."

"Hmm." Merlin hesitated. "I'm sorry about your cousin."

"So am I." Gwaine didn't want to discuss it further and changed the subject by saying, "I fought Mordred. Did I tell you that already?"

Merlin groaned.

"I heard rumors." Gwaine continued, watching Merlin. "Arthur tried to execute his girlfriend, huh?"

"She was part of the assassination attempt I mentioned."

"But you skipped the part with Mordred."

"I didn't want to think about it." Merlin sighed. "I found her body. After the battle. But not Mordred's."

"Did anyone find him?"

"No, I don't…didn't you kill him?"

"He was all set to kill me when Aithusa intervened. I don't know if he died or not."

Merlin swore under his breath. "He could still be out there."

"Maybe. So? He's one man. One man with magic, yes, but still just one."

"He's destined to kill Arthur."

It was Gwaine's turn to groan. "I know it's no use telling you to keep an eye out, Merlin, because you do anyway. I'm sorry I didn't gut him when I had the chance." He realized how callous he sounded, calmly discussing killing a person he'd met and even liked once. It was normal, really, but still very wrong.

_That's war for you._ Few were in the right, and the cost was always so damn high.

"We can only hope for the best," Merlin said. "Are you going to be alright, Gwaine?"

Gwaine looked away, glancing over the ruined branches around the edges of the clearing. _All broken._

_"Meet you on the other side of the war, cousin."_

_"Meet you on the other side."_

The war was over, but Aldwyn was gone. Gwaine wasn't.

_"You were_ _always_ _there: my idiot, irresponsible, far-to-skillful-with-a-sword-for-his-own-good cousin. Then…you weren't."_

"I'll be there now," Gwaine said quietly.

"What was that?" 

"I'll be fine." Gwaine stood up, brushing grass off his cloak. "It's getting late."

They walked back to the encampment together, not saying much as the sun sank behind far-off hills. Elwin met them partway there; he had worried when he couldn't find Gwaine in the camp. He managed a normal conversation with Merlin. Haralda got drunk and stumbled around, swearing at everyone she saw until she keeled over mid-stride. Gwaine, Merlin, and Elwin found an empty tent for her to sleep the ale off in.

Everard turned up in Gwaine's tent that night and cried for over an hour. Unsure of what to do, Gwaine settled for saying nothing and staying beside his cousin until the boy fell asleep.

_At least someone is sleeping tonight._ Gwaine didn't.

* * *

It was dark and cold, and he was alone.

His body was battered, his limbs aching, yet he could not bring himself rest for more than a few minutes before his restless mind propelled him back to his feet and farther away from the ruin behind him.

The white dragon's attack had not been as fierce as he would have anticipated, but it had left him unconscious, only to wake shortly before imminent discovery by knights of Camelot. Knowing what fate awaited him should he be captured, he fled.

_I would receive no mercy. And I would ask for none._

He had magic. Arthur Pendragon was an enemy of magic. Even if he seemed to accept it, because of Emrys, he would still be the enemy.

_He will always be my enemy._

The former druid and knight didn't know where he was going, only that he was going  _away_  from Camelot. Across other kingdoms, across other seas, perhaps he would be safe from the wrath of Emrys. _Until the right moment._ _One day, I will have my revenge._

It might be many years before the right opportunity arose, but he could wait. He could make a new life somewhere far away, all the while biding his time. The memory of the Pendragons' crimes, the traitor warlock, and the woman he loved slain before his eyes would keep the fire of hatred burning forever.

Mordred would never forgive. And he would never forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all just assume that Mordred returns to kill Arthur in a few decades.


	38. Chapter 37

The wyverns were acting up again.

Elen sighed and pulled her pillow over her head. The beasts had hardly shut up at all during the past weeks.  _Missing their master, I suppose._ At least they liked her, too, or taking care of them would have been far more difficult. 

The last few weeks had been a blur of watching the wyverns, reading, practicing sword maneuvers, and reading some more. Flyta had visited a few times, and Ela twice. The second time she'd brought Hertha, who had been restless and lonely with all her siblings gone. The young princess had been fascinated by the wyverns. Cleva even came once. She didn't say much, but Elen found her company pleasant enough.

It had been nice to have visitors to break the monotony of waiting.

_Two years ago, I would've gone too…_ If she was better with a sword, she could have gone now. But she wasn't, so she was stuck here.

The lack of news drove her nearly mad. She knew someone would come and tell her if word came of something major, but so far there had been nothing...unless she counted a strange dream of going to sleep on a battlefield. She'd only had that dream once. 

This evening, she once again had nothing to think about except the wyverns' grumbling and growling.

_I'm getting very accustomed to it. She_  wasn't worried, just annoyed...until one of them started squealing and the rest followed suit.

Lunging to her feet, Elen seized the sword leaning by the bed and raced through the crooked hallway to the front door. The moon was out, the silvery light just enough to see by.

The wyverns were crowding against the fence of their pen, leaning across to shriek at… _other wyverns_? _Three of them, if I'm seeing it right_. Then she saw the smaller, less imposing figure standing beside them, looking at her.

"Hayden?" she gasped, sword falling from her hand as she rushed forward, slowing when she came close.  _It_  is _him…_ Even in the dim light she could see his clothes were torn and dirty, his shoulders slouched with exhaustion. He was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before.

"Hayden, you're back!" Elen couldn't stop the smile that spread over her face, worried as she was. "How…when…" She glanced at the wyverns, confused. "Where's…Obsidian, right?"

"Dead. So is the crown prince," Hayden said dully. "We won, though."

Elen felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. "Aldwyn's…dead?"

Hayden nodded. "I don't know where your brother is…he was scouting, so he should be fine."

Her emotions in turmoil, Elen managed to say, "I'm…sorry about the wyvern…"  _Aldwyn, dead...Oh lord, poor Braeden…_ "Has the army returned?"

"No, Prince Everard sent me back early with an escort. They went on to the city…I just…" he trailed off.

Elen stepped forward and put her arms around him. She didn't expect him to collapse against her, shaking.

_Is he…crying?_

Minutes passed during with the wyverns continued to growl and snarl and Hayden simply leaned into Elen. She kept her grip on him tight.

"Does the smell ever go away, Elen?" he choked out at one point. 

"I…what smell?"

"The battle smell."

Elen's mind went back to the skirmishes she'd participated in, and what the aftermath was like. _I used to be accustomed to it myself.._. "Eventually, I think." Since he seemed to be leaning on her a little less, she pulled back to look him in the face. "And you're not going off to war again, I promise."  _I'd sooner go myself._

She made him go to bed then, before she guided the returning wyverns into the pen. One of them moved slowly, her head hanging low.

Elen went back inside to find Hayden fast asleep on his bed, having only managed to remove his boots. She pulled a blanket over him, then wrapped another one around herself and sat in a chair at his bedside for the rest of the night.

She was feeding the wyverns the next morning when a rider came from the city, bringing her official word of the victory and the crown prince's death.

When Hayden stumbled outside, she was about to ask him if he wanted breakfast when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. She reciprocated. Without interruptions, without spectators, they could finally take their time.

He was still badly shaken from what he had seen. At first, it showed in his every word and movement. His behavior was that of a frightened animal. As the days went by, he gradually relaxed as he and Elen fell into a routine of tending the wyverns, wandering the nearby forest and hills, and talking.

A few days later, word reached them that Gwaine had managed to get his scouting party involved in a pitched battle between Camelot and Amata, which ended in victory for Camelot. Arthur Pendragon had come to the Bernician and Deiran camp to discuss an alliance. The next news they received was that the peace talks had been successful, and the Bernician army was on its way home.

"An alliance with Camelot," Elen commented. "Now I've heard it all."  _And Gwaine brought it about? Well, he did say Arthur wasn't a bad man…_

When Hayden and Elen received news that the army had crossed the borders, they left the wyverns under the watch of Flyta and rode to the city. They were there in the crowded courtyard when the knights rode in, fewer in number then when they left, and the expectant quiet turned into cries of joy and of sorrow as court members rushed forward to meet their loved ones or were reminded of those who would never return.

They watched as the king enveloped his queen in an embrace which lasted for a very long time, as Haralda strode into the castle without looking at anyone, as a crying Hertha threw herself on her brother Elwin, and as Everard stepped forward and handed what appeared to be Aldwyn's sword to a sobbing, black-clad Braeden.

Then Gwaine appeared out of the crowd, looking as tired as everyone else, yet with a ghost of his usual grin on his face. Ela hugged him first, scolding him roundly for riding into a battle with no certain allies and only two dozen men. When he managed to fend her off, he turned to Goddard and said, "I kept myself alive, as you can see."

Elen giggled as their father said, "And made Arthur Pendragon into an ally as well. You never cease to amaze me."

After embracing his father, Gwaine greeted Hayden and expressed his regret about the lost wyvern. Hayden seemed appreciative, but didn't say much.

Finally Gwaine and Elen faced each other. "Greetings, dear sister," he said. "How have you been managing?"

Elen rolled her eyes and pulled him into a tight hug. "Well enough without you fussing over me, brother."

"I missed you too, Elen."

That night they ate dinner together, just the four of them, plus Hayden. Elen held his hand under the table for most of the meal.

The conversation was more serious than not. Gwaine did most of the talking, adding details to what they already knew of the war in the south. He spoke at length about Arthur, who " _has some interesting decisions ahead_ ".

The in-depth explanation that followed left Elen unsure whether to be outraged or honored by the realization that she had once gotten into a fight with…and held her ground against…the mighty Emrys.  _No wonder the Pendragon never figured it out. Besides the fact he's an idiot…Merlin looks barely able to pick up a weapon, let alone command the forces of the earth._

When the conversation drifted back to the battles, Elen ended up saying, "It sounds like you did well, Gwaine."

Her brother looked down at the table. "Not well enough." 

_He's thinking about Aldwyn._ Elen winced, remembering afresh their loss. _Oh, Gwaine, it wasn't your fault._

He looked up at her, a confused expression on his face.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?" Ela asked.

Gwaine shrugged. Mildly annoyed, Elen remembered something and asked, "Did you by any chance fall asleep on a battlefield, Gwaine? While the battle was still going on?"

Pause. Then, "How the  _hell_  could've you known about that?"

"You did  _what?_ " both their parents shouted at the same time.

Gwaine launched into a rambling explanation while Elen exchanged glances with Hayden, who smiled faintly.  _Some things will never change._ Given all that had occurred in recent months, that was a comforting thought.

_Though_ , Elen reflected, tightening her grip on Hayden's hand,  _not all of the changes have been for the worse._

She supposed they all had to hold on to that.

* * *

Obtaining a truce with Bernicia had been fairly easy, and much simplified as there were no border negotiations to worry about. Harlan was far tamer than he had been at first; in fact, it was Arthur, King Edlin of Deira, and Gwaine who did most of the talking.

The main issue turned out to be Amata itself. The Bernicians had enough spoils from the city. Edlin wanted some of the Amatan coast as his own but other than that wasn't interested in the land that far south of his borders. In the end, Arthur had agreed to take responsibility and work out some agreement with the kingdoms surrounding it. Some of the former country would likely fall under Pendragon rule.

That had been it. The next day they were headed back to Camelot while their new allies returned north. There had been only a brief goodbye between the trio of men who still remained uneasy with each other.

_"Am I still banished, Arthur?"_

_"I suppose not. You did save my life."_

_"Again."_

_"I'd tell you to shut up, but it would be discourteous thing to say to a member of a royal family from a distant kingdom."_

_"Huh. So I'm not allowed to call you a pompous ass, then?"_

_"_ Now _I'll tell you to shut up."_

_"Only joking! However, Arthur…do be careful who you decide to keep quiet."_

_Arthur nodded. "Understood." He and Gwaine clasped hands and murmured brief farewells, then the Pendragon went to join the other knights by their horses._

_Gwaine turned to Merlin. "I'll see you again soon, I hope. Take care of yourself."_

_"Likewise."_

Thus Courage, Strength, and Magic had parted ways once again.

_At least this time Arthur and Gwaine weren't yelling at each other about relatives and honor._

Merlin had rather liked the Bernicians as a whole, but was glad to turn homeward again, despite his uncertainty of the future. Then, on the way back to Camelot, Arthur had asked if he could talk to the dragons. So that evening, while the others set up camp, the king and the warlock had gone to an empty clearing to meet Kilgharrah and Aithusa.

Merlin had to say that it was one of the most awkward conversations he'd ever witnessed. He and Aithusa had stood back and watched while Arthur struggled to choose between being respectful to Kilgharrah or being infuriated with him. Mostly they argued over the reasonableness of Kilgharrah's earlier attack on Camelot, and neither seemed truly satisfied in the end. Before they parted ways, Kilgharrah had said, "A difficult choice still lies before you, young Pendragon. Choose wisely. Though…I suspect you already have."

Perhaps Arthur had. But he refused to discuss it with Merlin for the rest of the journey and during the following days in Camelot.

The warlock went back to his regular duties of serving the king as the aftermath of the war was dealt with and rumors began to spread around the castle. Servants who had been on the campaign heard their masters talking and spoke to others, weaving fantastical tales of the sorcerer who had won the battle and who he might be. Some of the stories were uncomfortably close to the truth, and Merlin became accustomed to the whispers and stares which followed him.

Guinevere treated him no differently from before. Percival and Elyan also behaved as they always had around him; Leon seemed a bit more reluctant to trust the warlock. Gaius, of course, tried to get him to talk, to open up about the fear which stalked him during the day and stole his sleep every night.

_If Arthur was going to kill me or banish me, surely he would have done so by now. But maybe he just feels indebted to me, and reluctant to take action because of that…I wish he'd hurry up and decide what to do with me._ He found himself unable to meet Arthur's eyes anymore.  _This uncertainty is…unbearable._  It only got worse as time went on.

It was on one of these painfully long days that a guard came up to Merlin while he was doing laundry and told him his presence was required in the council chambers.

As he hurried up several flights of stairs and down multiple corridors, Merlin's palms grew sweaty and his breath became shorter than it ought to given how used to running around the castle he was.  _Even if he tries to kill you, you could escape,_ Merlin reminded himself. He was certain he could incapacitate every guard sent after him without harming anyone, and flee somewhere.  _Maybe Bernicia. Or, if Arthur simply banishes me, I could live with Mother and guard Camelot from afar…_ Merlin dared not hope for a better outcome than that.

The moment he entered the council chambers, however, it became clear that he was not the center of attention. No one even noticed him enter the crowded room. It appeared to be a normal meeting, so he ducked into a corner and waited.

Arthur soon caught everyone's attention and began to speak. "Thank you for convening on such short notice. I have been wrestling with a difficult issue for days now, and as of this morning I believe I know how to deal with it."

Merlin swallowed and Arthur and Gwen looked at each other for a moment. The queen gave an encouraging smile, and the king continued, "I have decided…to revoke the ban on magic."

Several moments passed before Merlin comprehended what had just been said.  _He's…he's revoking the ban on magic…he's making it legal again…I can stay…_

He saw Gwen watching him, and he gave her a weak smile as the room erupted into chaos, knights and advisors all talking at once.

When Arthur managed quiet them, he said, "The process will be slow, gradual. We must be careful. Magic can be used for evil; we all know it for a fact. But in time, I hope that magic may return to this land, and be used for the good of all. We will meet again tomorrow to discuss this further. Council dismissed."

The room emptied; even the queen left. Merlin was about to slip out…Gaius was tending patients at the moment and the warlock wanted to tell him the news…when Arthur called, "Merlin!"

He turned. "Yes, Sire?"

Arthur motioned for the guards to leave and shut the door. Once they had done so, the Pendragon said, "I didn't want to bring you into it just yet. It might look a bit suspicious."

Nodding, Merlin managed to say, "Yes, I understand."

"Soon, however, you will need to reveal yourself. Officially." Arthur hesitated. "Will you be prepared to do that?"

"Yes, of course…"  _After all this time, finally…_ Still avoiding the king's gaze, Merlin said, "Arthur…I can't… _thank you_ …"

"Merlin, look at me."

Slowly, Merlin raised his eyes to meet those of his king. Arthur gazed steadily back. "Thank  _you_ , Merlin. For everything."

A lump threatening to close his throat, Merlin whispered, "You're welcome."

"And we'll need to talk about all these other times you've saved my life without my knowing."

"They're almost too many to count, Sire; it could take a while."

"I'm counting on it." Arthur smiled. "I'll need your help, Merlin, if this is to work."

"You'll have it. Like always."

"I know."

Merlin grinned. "Couldn't manage without me, could you,  _prat_?"

"You're still an idiot,  _Mer_ lin."

"Clot-pole."

"Dollop-head."

"Hey, that was my insult!"

"Too bad; I'm your king and I'll use it when I want to!"

Merlin didn't even try to suppress the pure exhilaration sweeping through him. He had dreamed of this day for so long, and it was finally here.

_Arthur accepts my magic._

In this moment, all was well.

* * *

The moon was almost full again.

Gwaine, tired as he was, couldn't sleep. Occasional nightmares, constant worry, the gnawing emptiness that was the loss of Aldwyn…it kept him awake more often than not. Sitting on a stone bench beside a corridor window, looking out upon the moonlit fells, Gwaine reflected that he'd gone through periods of sleeplessness before. It would pass. Until then, he was stuck roaming the halls at night, when he wasn't reading up on magic spells.

He almost liked having magic now. Complex spells would probably always been beyond him, but he didn't really need them. The simple ones were enough.  _Pity Elen didn't get it back, though…she was still better at the whole having magic business. There's always a chance..._

However, Elen had been rather occupied lately...with Hayden. He had returned to his wyverns, but she visited him what seemed like every other day. Gwaine didn't mind. She was happier than he'd seen her in a very,  _very_  long time. Their parents didn't mind, either. Ela seemed satisfied that both of her children were home and sane. Goddard, though more frail than ever, also seemed content, as much as possible given current circumstances.

The feast to celebrate victory and honor the dead had been a somber affair for many, in particular the royal family. Braeden hadn't even attended; her heart was broken, and her and her daughter's futures were uncertain.

Haralda was more reticent than ever. Harlan was far too quiet, Aldora, too withdrawn. Great-Aunt Gytha told fewer stories. Hertha and Elwin were spending a lot of time together, riding horses, training with weapons, supporting each other. Their smiles weren't as wide anymore, their laughs less noisy.

Everard…frankly, Gwaine was both impressed and concerned. The prince once known for reading and wanting time alone had thrown himself into the duties of crown prince, even though his title wasn't official yet due to his age. He was louder than before, more commanding, yet still restrained enough to retain people's respect.

Aldwyn's death had aged them all in some way. In Everard's case, it had turned him into an adult overnight.

_Only a few months ago his biggest worry was if his twin thought he was a ninny._

The war had taken much. But now the kingdom was at peace. Life could continue.

Along that line of thought, Gwaine had continued his mission to make amends with Lady Cleva. It was going well so far. Her mother had been ill and she hadn't been there to greet him when he returned initially, but she had sought him out the day after, happy to see him. In the several weeks since the war's end, they had time for each other, time to talk, to grow closer. Someday, they might have more than friendship.

_Maybe we already do and I'm just being idiotic again. Completely possible._

"Gwaine?"

"Father?" Gwaine turned away from the window. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. I expect you can't as well?"

Gwaine nodded as Goddard eased himself down on the other end of the bench. "If I'm not tossing and turning I'm having nightmares. Can't win either way."

"I know the feeling."

_Probably woke up because he's in pain again…_ "Have you…have you ever had nightmares, Father?"

"Of course. Who hasn't? Not often, though."

"Lately I dream of seeing Aldwyn die, even though I wasn't there. Could be considered an improvement over having dreams about me killing people I care about, but…I'd rather have those, honestly."

"I used to have nightmares about you. About what I was afraid would happen to you after you ran away."

Gwaine flinched. "I'm sorry."

"We've had this conversation before, haven't we? Or something similar," Goddard said. "I would have expected you to sleep better tonight, honestly. Considering the news we received today."

Gwaine smiled, remembering. "Magic is to be made legal in Camelot. Merlin must be overjoyed."

"And the Pendragon has finally done something right. Perhaps your mother can visit her homeland openly now."

"Maybe."

A pause followed. Then Goddard said, "I've noticed you spending quite a bit of time with Lady Cleva as of late."

"We're figuring things out." Gwaine avoided his father's gaze.

"Should I worry about planning a wedding?"

Chuckling, Gwaine said, "I'd worry about Elen's wedding to Hayden before mine, Father."

"Indeed."

Gwaine looked out the window again, and was caught off guard when his father said, "I'm proud of you, Gwaine."

"What brought this on?"

"Nothing in particular. I just happen to be proud of my son, is all."

"Thank you, Father."

They lapsed into silence. Once again Goddard was the first to break it. "Things could be worse, Gwaine."

"Yeah." Gwaine looked out at the Bernician hills, gleaming in the light of the moon. "Magic in Camelot, peace throughout the land...Well, except in Rheged, but at least they keep it to themselves…things could be far worse than this."

_In some ways, they're better._


	39. Chapter 38

Weeks sped by, followed by months, then seasons. Merlin felt as if he barely had time to breathe anymore.

Revealing his magic to all of Camelot had been less cataclysmic than he had expected. Members of the court had shrieked in indignation and even terror, but calmed down after being assured by the king and queen and court physician and most esteemed knights of the realm that Merlin was no threat. The news had spread throughout the kingdom; soon Merlin had found himself flooded with clandestine messages from underground magic users, asking if the king was truly on their side now. Merlin's reply was the same to all: if they used their magic for good, Arthur would welcome them to Camelot. A few sorcerers, unmoved by Arthur's attempts at peace, did try to stir up trouble, but Merlin was able to deal with them, in the open and with Arthur's approval.

In the meantime, some people didn't seem at all surprised by Merlin's former secret. Once particular exchange with the castle's head cook had the warlock speculating for days.

_"I don't trust you to lurk around 'ere without sneakin' my pies, so finish whatever errand brought you down here and get!"_

_"I never stole any of your pies, I swear!"_

_"Ha! And you call yourself good at keepin' secrets!"_

That left Merlin speechless.  _Perhaps I wasn't as good at keeping my magic hidden as I thought._

No matter who had and who hadn't known, it was a relief to see people begin to relax around him once more as they realized that, Emrys or no, Merlin was still Merlin. It "lightened his load", so to speak, even as his once-busy days became a positive whirlwind of activity. Besides acting as a go-between for Arthur and magic users and participating in standard council meetings as the authority on all things magical, he still helped Gaius as much as possible and fulfilled his own duties as Arthur's manservant. The last he did without thinking about it, until one day in late autumn Arthur said, "Merlin, you do realize I hired another manservant two months ago?"

Merlin froze in the middle of making the royal bed. "Then why haven't I seen him?"

"Oh, I'm sure you've seen him around. He comes in and tries to do whatever chores you've forgotten…which is miraculously few most of the time."

After a moment of consideration, Merlin said, "I suggest you find him another job, 'cause I'm sure not giving mine up."

"All right. If you're going to be that way, split the workload evenly with him."

"Hmm…done." Then, "Why didn't you point him out to me earlier, when I didn't notice?"

"Guinevere tried to convince me to, but…it was just too perfect."

Merlin got his revenge by magically causing Arthur to have an uncontrollable sneezing fit during dinner that evening. After that day, he still did half the chores for the king. Arthur didn't complain, and Gwen and Gaius merely shook their heads over the situation a few times. The new manservant, Alfred, found himself in a prestigious servant's position with half the usual workload attached; he had no complaints whatsoever.

The warlock was still busy, however. The number of regular attacks, magical and otherwise, seemed to lessen, but even peaceful sorcerers were reluctant to trust a Pendragon. Arthur also wanted to convince other kingdoms to allow magic again, which created even more tension. Merlin kept having to negotiate and participate in difficult meetings that often came very near to blows. Only the druids accepted an open peace without hesitation. Routine council meetings kept popping up, less dangerous but infinitely more boring. Meanwhile, Gaius wasn't getting any younger and the extra apprentice he'd taken on wasn't learning fast enough to take over for Merlin. Not to mention that at least once a day Arthur would pull him to the side and demand a detailed explanation for an incident that had occurred years before. 

Some, like the troll, could be laughed off...albeit with a shudder on Arthur's part...while others, like the whole crystal cave debacle, resulted in Arthur yelling at Merlin so loud the entire castle could hear.

Yet Merlin was happy. Yes, he hardly had time to himself anymore, but it didn't matter so much when he could use his powers, or at least his knowledge, openly and without fear.

And now there was nothing stopping him from communicating with a once-banished friend.

It took him months to remember to send a couple letters to Gwaine, and when he did he received no reply until spring. The very first couple sentences of messy script made him chuckle.

_Dear Merlin,_

_I hope for your sake that the weather has been better down in Camelot than up here. If so, then damn your good luck._

The humorous tone continued throughout the brief letter, as Gwaine asked after Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, and the knights, then spoke of the terrible weather and his own family… _Braeden and Alison moved back to Deira, mostly because Edlin insisted. The rest of us are well enough, though Elen keeps complaining about how absurd your appearance is given how powerful you are…She may try knocking your teeth out when you finally meet her…just a warning…_

Somewhere near the middle, the humor was left out as Gwaine spared a single sentence to inform Merlin that "Great-Aunt Gytha" had died a month earlier.

_Typical Gwaine. Marginalizing his losses._ Case in point, Gwaine followed the news up with,  _Hertha's decided that she should be the next family storyteller. She's got a good memory for that sort of thing, but she'll have to learn to sit still for more than ten minutes first._

He then mentioned someone Merlin had met.  _Cleva would like to visit Camelot someday, perhaps next year. She's wonderful, Merlin. I think so for…plenty of reasons. And yes, besides the fact she's beautiful.. Elen thinks she's wonderful because she apparently "keeps me in my place". Whatever that means._

The letter was ended with a lengthy scrawled postscript.  _You may or may not know this…your white dragon paid us a visit a week ago. Right before she flew off…without saying goodbye, may I add…she did some weird breathing thing and, well, my father's in better form than he's been for years. Not completely healed, mind…I don't think anything could do that, but Mother thinks he'll live to see a few more years more than we believed he would. Thank Aithusa for me, will you?_

Messages of all sorts began to travel faster as more kingdoms began to ally. King Arthur initiated many diplomatic talks, hoping to unite all of Albion, if not under one banner, than under one peace.

A year had passed since the Battle of Andor when Merlin received a rather irate letter from Gwaine.  _So, Merlin, being a physician's assistant, I'm sure you'll recognize these symptoms: vomiting, tiredness, unpredictable emotions, plus a few others I'd be embarrassed to put down in writing. A week ago I found out my sister had them all and wouldn't see Mother about it. So I dragged her out to Hayden's and explained the situation. I may have threatened to dismember him with magic, but I needn't have worried. He asked Elen to marry him on the spot. It's quite the scandal at court._

_Oh well, could be worse. I guess at least I'll have a niece or nephew to spoil in a few months._

The few months went by and Merlin got another letter.

_Dear Merlin,_

_Elen had twins. A boy and a girl. Henry and Heather. They're adorable. Mother and Father are delighted._

_On other news, Cleva agreed to marry me. She wants to wait until next summer, though, "just to be sure". Women. What would we do without them? And I mean that seriously._

More time went by. In Bernicia, Queen Aldora died after a short illness. In Camelot, King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, after years of trying, finally had a child. Prince Llacheu was welcomed with week-long celebrations. Shortly afterward, Merlin received a letter of mostly terrified ramblings from Gwaine, who had just learned he was going to be a father.  _I know history doesn't necessarily repeat itself, Merlin, but even if it does I don't have to worry until the kid is sixteen, right?_

Merlin had sent Aithusa back with a verbal answer to that particular question.  _That's ridiculous, Gwaine. Now go see your mother about a calming potion or something. Oh, and congratulations._

The next letter the Barclayn sent was far less amusing.  _King Harlan is dead, thrown from his horse during a hunt and killed instantly. Poor Everard. He's not quite of age, as you know, and no one's sure if they can legally crown him yet. There's talk of a regent._

Less than three days after getting that letter, Merlin received another.

_Dear Merlin,_

_They made me regent. Apparently Haralda's "too unpredictable" and Father's "too frail and has already done too much". Hopefully Everard can do most of the work anyway. He's better suited to it._ _Now excuse me while I go walk off the nearest tower._

Of course he didn't, and from what Merlin heard, Gwaine did a fine job of "ruling" Bernicia until Everard's coronation the following year, despite predictions to the contrary. Arthur, for one, laughed hysterically for quite a long time when he first heard about Gwaine's new position.

The reluctant regent's letters were full of complaints… _Since when do the council members care this much about being "proper"? They can bloody well go to Everard rather than coming after me first; apparently it's in the rules somewhere…Everyone used to go directly to Harlan, but then again he wasn't king until he was an adult with two children…Father says Everard has a better head on his shoulders at twenty than Harlan did at fifty, and I agree. Damn council won't listen, though, which is ironic considering they're taking orders from me…_ _I almost set a council member's cloak on fire yesterday; he was being so bloody overbearing_ _..._

One letter, however, was less cynical and more a confusing mess of joy and anxiety as Gwaine rambled about his son's birth, how he was relieved it wasn't twins, and how he was certain he was going to fail magnificently at fatherhood.

Merlin shook his head… _Honestly, he's worse than Arthur was after Llacheu's birth…_ and mentally composed an answer… _Gwaine, if you're that worried about it I suggest you talk to your father about it…_ before reading the postscript:  _I think I forgot to mention; we named him Caldwell. Cleva's choice. It was her father's name._

More time passed. Arthur created the position of Court Sorcerer and put Merlin in it, officially raising his rank from servant to noble.

It was strange, being of equal status to any lord of the realm, save the king. There were uncomfortable parts, like the fact he was expected to take on a servant...he didn't. It did have its advantages, though; for one thing, Merlin was able to bring his mother to Camelot and have her live at the palace.  _No more rushed trips to see her_. His new position also allowed him more time to work with magic, learning new lore and spells; he usually conducted his research in Gaius's chambers, though he had rooms elsewhere in the palace.

And yet the warlock kept finding himself doing odd chores for the king here and there.

_Old habits die hard,_ he wrote to Gwaine one summer evening.  _Arthur claims I must've liked being a servant to keep serving him now, but he's just being a prat._

A few weeks later he sat reading Gwaine's reply.  _No one's denying Arthur's a prat, Merlin, least of all me. At least he's a half-decent king._

Recalling similar words spoken long ago after a hectic quest, Merlin smiled.

It was typical for Gwaine to add hasty postscripts to his letters, and this one was no different.  _Aithusa landed in the castle courtyard this morning. I'm pretty sure the whole castle heard Lord Fairley screaming in terror. Not that I'm complaining about that; I appreciate having a dragon for a friend, I really do, but it would be nice if you'd order her to stop showing up unexpectedly like that. It's getting ridiculous._

Merlin chuckled as he folded up the letter, pushing his seat back from the table and standing up. Gaius, who was getting ready for bed, looked at him, his gaze still clear despite his increasing age and frailty. "What's so funny, Merlin?"

"Oh, dragon troubles," Merlin said airily, a grin on his face. "Aithusa made another ill-placed landing in Bernicia." He paused. "You know what, Gaius? It's nice to say that without worrying about being overheard and executed."

"You don't have to tell  _me_  that, Merlin. I of all people understand."

As Merlin said a cheery goodnight and left for his own chambers, he heard Gaius mutter, "It's a miracle he still has his head." The warlock was still grinning as he strode through the familiar corridors. 

" _Merlin!_ " The familiar shout echoed through the castle.

His grin reflexively turned into a grimace.  _Yeah, some things never change._

He didn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue will be up soon, and is just a nice little bow to top the whole thing off :)  
> I have a few oneshots/drabbles related to this series posted on ff.net; I may move them over here, too.


	40. Epilogue

He still preferred animals to people. Animals were still more agreeable. He just made more exceptions to that rule now.

After all, he was left with little choice.

He had a wife, something he'd never thought much about. She wasn't a traditional sort; she couldn't cook at all, her laundry-washing skills were questionable, and it took her years to figure out how to help him clean anything. But she could feed and discipline wyverns almost as well as he could, she could chop wood, and was the best company he could have ever asked for.

Of course, he now had to eat at regular times by her insistence, spend more time keeping the house from falling apart because she might not be stuck-up but she did have standards, and had to manage two-way conversation with a human being on a daily basis.

Once it would have driven him nearly mad, like the war had, despite his minor involvement, like crowds of people still did. But her presence bothered him little if at all. They fit, and that was what mattered.

The children had been a complete accident. They had thought, due to past events, that it wasn't possible, but should have been more careful just the same. He'd felt guilty when he'd first learned of the children and had remained that way until he held them in his arms. She had had a similar reaction…guilt and fear that subsided only when she truly had them.

They were difficult, as children typically were. The first few years weren't easy at all. But he had raised wyverns, and she was one of the most resilient people he knew, so together they made it work. It all fit, the four of them and his pets, now  _theirs_.

Beyond that, he had to make room in his life for his wife's parents, for the friend who was now also his brother-in-law, and  _his_  wife. Not to mention the assorted family, including a king who always seemed far wiser than his years, his twin who year by year learned to laugh again, a fierce princess who never sought conventional attachment, and the younger princess who had a rare joyful soul.

He also had gained another friend in a white dragon who finally learned to speak aloud, and a warlock who was now dragged down merely with duties, not secrets. The dragon grew steadily more strong and beautiful, like the world around her, and the warlock seemed to be more lighthearted and content with every visit. Such visits were relatively simple things, as the land of Albion came to be at peace. Magic slowly returned to the lands where some had attempted to purge it, and petty skirmishes between kingdoms grew less common every year. There were even fewer attacks by northern clans. Darkness was becoming outweighed by the light.

He watched the people he came into contact with. He listened.

He saw the evidence of a new golden age, and he smiled.

Through it all, the sun seemed to shine a bit brighter, the air seemed clearer, and the world seemed…balanced.

Watching the group of people in the sunlit yard this particular day…his young son, daughter and nephew playing with the youngest wyvern, his brother-in-law talking lazily to the visiting warlock, the wives chatting about something while keeping a careful eye on the children…it occurred to the wyvern tamer that while the world,  _their world_ , could never be perfect, now it was close enough.

_For now all is as it should be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


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